


any way the wind blows

by PearlHavoc



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anna grows up with normal-ish family dynamics, Covers both Frozen and Frozen 2, Elsa grows up with the Northuldra, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hans is in here briefly, Internalized Homophobia, angsty, complicated family dynamics, didn't plan on that originally but he's here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 99,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23454670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PearlHavoc/pseuds/PearlHavoc
Summary: Agnarr, after years of trying to contain Elsa's powers to no avail, decides to just get rid of the problem.Elsa, after wandering the wilderness, is called by a mysterious voice to the enchanted forest. She is taken in by the Northuldra people and slowly grows into her powers and identity. Anna grows up in an Arendelle with open doors and loving parents. Where missing princesses are nothing more than a vague memory. Years later, after strange events bring Arendelle to its knees Anna seeks answers in the unknown north. Elsa is called by the same mysterious voice to open the mist to visitors.
Relationships: Background Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 148
Kudos: 735





	1. All is Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The royal family deals with the aftermath of the Elsa's accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in quarantine for the past two weeks and the unrelenting amount of free time caused me to actually go through months-old notes and write this.

It’s on the carriage ride back that Agnarr first considers the idea. Anna was still clutched in Iduna’s arms, Elsa fast asleep between them. He dismisses it just as quickly, but it doesn’t totally leave his mind. As he stews alone with his thoughts Elsa slowly stirs beside him, blearily rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

“Papa? Is everything going to be okay?” Her voice is barely above a whisper in order to avoid waking the other people in the carriage, such a considerate child, always.

“Don’t worry dear, we’ll find a way to contain your powers, everything will be fine,” he brushes his gloved hand through her hair, tangling at the braid, she lets out a soft chuckle at the motion. He could never do that to his child, he pushes the thought far from his mind. “Go back to sleep, we’ll be home soon, we can talk about this more in the morning.” The chill in the air prompts him to pull the blanket loosely wrapped around his wife and daughters up higher. Elsa shrugs out of it quickly and replaces it tighter around her mother and sister. A harsh breeze comes and goes with nary an acknowledgment from Elsa. It was too easy to forget that she couldn’t feel the cold. Agnarr, even in the heavy coat he had thrown on, feels the chill down to his toes.

He feels Elsa’s eyes on him but the glance he steals tells him that she isn’t really looking at him. Agnarr recognizes the look on her face as the one that was gracing his own only moments ago. His girls really resembled their mother more physically but Elsa, as Iduna often reminded him, seemed to act more like him thus far. Agnarr thinks fondly of moments teaching Elsa the basics of court politics; the girl had picked up the basics incredibly quickly. It had taken him years and he had been much older when he had to start learning. He’s lost in these thoughts for only a blissful moment when his mind betrays him just as quickly—for a moment only flashes of what his traitorous thoughts would mean wreak havoc in his subconscious. He shakes his head to try and clear it from his mind. They would figure this out, as a family. “Everything will be fine,” he repeats, more to himself than to his daughter, as if saying it would make it a reality.

“Okay papa,” Elsa says finally as she readjusts in her place, her own mental stewing over as well, she lets out an adorable yawn and leans into his side. Fast sleep in minutes. Agnarr takes his family home and tries to think of it no more.

-

Agnarr and Iduna decide together to separate the girls. It wasn’t an easy decision but it’s one that had to be made. They were too close and the risk of Anna discovering Elsa’s powers again was too great. Another accident could easily be catastrophic. The long-dormant part of Iduna wanted to take Elsa to one of the village’s spiritual leaders, certainly _they_ would know what to do. But, she reasoned, the Trolls had to be the closest thing they had on this side of the mist. They had to know _something_ , even if they wouldn’t give them a real answer.

They reduced the staff, limited the comings and goings of anyone in the castle, and cut contact between their daughters. Iduna hadn’t wanted Elsa behind a constantly closed door but Agnarr insisted that it was best to keep the girls apart.

The hall they chose for Elsa’s new room was far off from the rest of the family, there was a small study with a well-stocked library attached. The servants had done their job and stocked the room with things that their eldest would enjoy in her solitude, mostly books and puzzles, but Iduna doubted that any of it would bring her much pleasure.

Iduna had taken it upon herself to double-check the room before Elsa moved in permanently. She hated to use that word. She hated to think of the situation as permanent, but it _felt_ permanent, and thus there was little else to say. It took her over twenty minutes to walk from her own chambers to Elsa’s wing—it would take longer for the kitchen to deliver her meals, and longer still for her father to visit from his study. Iduna thumbs through a few of the books on the shelves, slipping notes of sweet nothings and kindnesses into the ones she thinks that Elsa would actually read. She moves onto the bedroom. The décor matched what was spread throughout the castle, rather than bring over Elsa’s old furniture outright they had opted to have new pieces built. Seeing them now in context they seem far too mature for their eldest. The sheets, like everything else, were new, a new cotton blend imported from Corona, Iduna runs her fingers over the tender material; unimaginably soft after countless washes to break them in. The room was fit for the heir apparent, but not for a child. Elsa was eight, far too young to be this _separated_ from her family. Sitting on the bed and wrinkling the sheets as much as she can, Iduna thinks, not for the first nor the last time, that this was the wrong way to help their child. But like many other times, she says nothing. Elsa moves in later that day.

Agnarr insisted that their daughter was not to interact with other people until she had her powers well under control. Iduna knows it’s cruel but acquiesces and hates herself afterwards.

A week after the move, when prompted, Elsa claims to love the solitude that the space provides but Iduna is hardly convinced.

Anna quickly grows restless without her only playmate. In the interim before Elsa’s new room is ready, they confine her to the infirmary, if only to keep Anna out. That quick decision turned into the cover story for Elsa’s powers. As far as the citizens of Arendelle knew, their eldest princess was gravely ill, and any visitors could upset her fragile health. The members of their own kingdom and their neighbors seem convinced enough to not ask questions. They had told Anna the same, and she was convinced as well, but only for a while.

Anna begged her mother to let her see her sister. Iduna _wants_ to say yes more than anything, but she knows that this is in everyone’s best interest. In the quiet hours when Anna is busy with tutors or nannies, she often had to remind herself what those interests entail.

Despite being relatively convinced about the eldest princess’ condition rumors still run amok about the Princess’s actual condition throughout both the castle and the kingdom, no one knew what was really going on; save for the monarchs themselves. Iduna knows that these rumors must exist, _how could they not?_ But it’s only when she hears two scullery maids gossiping about Elsa’s condition that the impact of their lies start to feel bigger than their small family. She mentions it only in passing to her husband, he reassures her not to worry and speaks of it no more. They’re both dismissed within the week.

-

Elsa had always been the more reserved of the two girls, so she took to solitude as well as to be expected. She saw tutors daily in the study attached to her room, her powers did not excuse the necessity for her to learn the responsibilities that the throne entailed. Nannies checked on her daily, delivering meals and occasionally books, never speaking to her more than necessary. Elsa could only hear the footsteps and their subsequent echoes of the guards that patrolled her hallway. They never spoke to her and she never spoke to them.

Elsa can count on one hand the number of books that she’s read from her new library. Reading, a hobby which she used to love more than anything, gives her no comfort in captivity. The books that the staff had stocked all seemed like things she may have read before, but not now. She appreciates the effort even if it is wasted on her. She busies herself with her textbooks and assignments, cracking open reference books far more often than the fictitious adventure stories that her mother assumed she would prefer. She finds none of the notes intended for her.

The time not spent studying is consumed with trying to stop her powers from consuming her. The idle gossip that floats in from the soldiers patrolling her halls always insisted that there were good days and bad days; Elsa waits for a very long time for good days that don’t come. The closest thing to good days is the moments when her sister visits her—and even those are never entirely good. Elsa heard from Anna often but never had the courage or control to open the door and see her.

-

Anna missed her sister. Which was an understatement but accurate all the same. There was no immediate explanation for her sister’s sudden disappearance—one morning she wakes up with a bad headache and all of her sister’s things had been moved out of their room. Her parents aren’t forthcoming with any information immediately. (Elsa had taught her the word forthcoming, _that_ she does remember.) They wait a week or so and then they don’t give her a real answer at all. Anna wants answers. The moment Elsa’s guards leave their post, Anna is there immediately knocking on the door. It was far from the first or the last time that this would happen.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

“Anna leave me alone!” Anna feels a shiver run up her spine, she assumes it’s from her sister’s cold words and not the strange chill that permeates the hallway.

“Okay bye,” Anna sings as the guards notice her and start to shoo her away. Used to the rejection but far from finished with her sister. She returned often, often asking the same question and receiving the same or a similar answer.

Anna returns quickly, undeterred by rejection, creating a fake emergency by pushing a suit of armor down the stairs—the guards rush to her apparent aid, giving her just a few minutes before they return. A running timer in her head, she knocks on the door.

“Elsa, do you wanna build a snowman?”

“No, Anna, I don’t want to,” Elsa’s voice is always cold and overly formal whenever she even bothers to answer her knocks. She remembers Elsa as a much more fun-loving sister than this closed door she’s been replaced with.

“We could ride our bikes? Or play checkers? Anything you want!” Anna knocks again, louder, every time; although it didn’t matter, Elsa ignored her more often than not these days.

“I want you to leave Anna,” Elsa is cold and collected but she can hear the way that her sister’s voice catches.

“But Elsa …” Anna pleads, she heard the way that her sister refused her, she definitely, deep down, wanted to play.

“Just go Anna!”, Elsa screams from the other side of the door and Anna swears that she feels a chill in the air. She finally leaves after that, hoping to find answers elsewhere. She misses the sob that escapes the frozen door as she runs away.

Her parents try and discourage her from visiting Elsa, and she fires back that they get to see her, so why should she? She tries to ask each of them individually, but they keep managing to weasel their way out of talking to her. She decides that she has to do something to help her family.

Her father is often too busy to eat dinners with them so it’s often only her mother and her—her father manages to break away once or twice a week at most for a _real_ family dinner. Although, she figures, it’s not much of a family dinner without Elsa, which only strengthens Anna’s resolve.

“It’s not safe Anna, what your sister has is dangerous and we don’t want you to get hurt,” her father is stern in this assessment, although he averts his eyes rather quickly, so Anna turns to her mother. She was still too small to sit properly in the high-backed dining room chairs, so she stands to meet her mother’s eyes properly.

“What does she have?” Anna was six and three quarters, she knew that there were different kinds of sicknesses, but she had never heard of one lasting _years_. She hadn’t seen her sister in well over a year, she only still knew what she looked like because of the royal portrait painted _years ago_.

“Anna, please, your sister is very sick, the doctors haven’t managed to figure out what ails her just yet,” her mom tries to calm her, but she just wanted answers! Was that too much to ask?

“Why? Why won’t either of you talk about her? It’s like she doesn’t even exist anymore! I just want to know!” Anna yells out, she knows she took breaths sometime during her speech, but she feels breathless afterwards. She gulps in air and waits for a response, but both of her parents are stony silent, trading very quick glances between themselves.

Her mother begins to open her mouth but just as soon closes it, apparently at a loss for words. The silence stretches out, feeling almost unending in Anna’s young mind. In reality, it lasts only under a minute.

“Enough!” Her father says finally breaking the silence, he slams his fist on the table, knocking over a goblet of what Anna assumes is grape juice, “We are doing everything in our power to help your sister, I don’t need you criticizing our decisions!” He presses his gloved hands to his forehead in a vague attempt to calm down. Anna and her mother had matching gawking expressions, and neither can find their words, “Iduna take Anna back to her quarters, she’s said enough today,” Her father is colder than she ever remembers him, and Anna wants to start screaming at the injustice of the situation but her mother takes her in her arms and rushes her out of the room before she can get another word out.

“Why was papa so mad? I just want to know how Elsa is doing,” Anna pouts at her last statement, she couldn’t understand why her father had gotten so mad. Gerda and her mother dress her in her nightgown quickly, apparently both still frazzled by their last interaction with the King.

“Your father has been working very hard on finding a cure for Elsa, he’s just stressed, none of that was your fault,” she tucks her into bed quietly, smoothing her hair down only once before moving her hand. Anna doesn’t feel tired, but she knows there’s no arguing after all of this.

“Will she ever be better? Will I ever get to see her again?”

“I hope so Anna, I hope so,” her mother is far away when she says this, but Anna tries to believe her words. The door shuts with a quiet click and Anna doesn’t know what to think anymore.

-

Elsa saw her parents as much as their schedule allowed—which was both too often and not nearly enough.

Iduna would try and guide Elsa through various breathing exercises to try and calm her powers. Although this often devolved into Elsa’s breathing becoming erratic and the room quickly dropping degrees. She would hold Elsa after that, hoping her heartbeat would be enough to calm her. She was getting too big to carry and Iduna couldn’t fathom where the time had gone. A year and a half in isolation, _gone_. When that didn’t stop the light flurries from forming in the room she would start to sing: _Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a river full of memory, sleep my darling, safe and sound. For in this river all is found._ The temperature would even out and eventually the room would return to a more hospitable temperature. The older Elsa got, the further into the song she had to go to calm her.

“Mama, why can’t I do this?” After a long moment of searching her daughter’s face Iduna hears the unspoken question _Why aren’t I normal?_ Although, she thinks, it shouldn’t be this hard to read her own child. She often knew what Anna was going to say or do without so much as a thought. It used to be the same way with Elsa, and she’s no longer sure when that changed. Elsa rarely spoke when she came in the room, as the weeks turned into months and the months into a year Elsa had withdrawn more and more. She rarely spoke to anyone outside of herself and Agnarr. _Surely that can’t be good for her development?_ Iduna wonders for far from the first time. She was such a bright and happy child now rendered sullen and miserable from her isolation.

“I don’t know darling, but don’t worry we’ll work through this together,” Elsa only hums her lullaby back to her in response. Iduna no longer knew though. Nothing they did seemed to help, and Elsa was withdrawing more and more into herself. They couldn’t help her, and she likely wouldn't be able to help herself at this rate. Agnarr had brought up how hard it would be for her to rule like this and neither of them had a solution. He had suggested making Anna the heir instead but never pushed the issue enough for her to have to reply with an answer. They would find a solution before it would come to that. They had to.

-

Elsa’s powers had only grown since they had confined her to her room. They had picked out a room far off from the rest of the family with guards patrolling intermittently to keep Anna out. The hall had a constant chill to it that the guards would complain about as their shifts ended. There were whispers all around the limited staff about what had become of the eldest princess. No doctor had ever been seen coming in or out of the room.

Agnarr visited his eldest daughter often, trying to instill some way of controlling her powers. He has the royal tailor make several different types of gloves, for any and all occasions; for Elsa to wear at all times. The idea came from their brief chat on the sleigh ride home. The gloves would protect Elsa from herself, and everyone else from her powers.

“Conceal, don’t feel,” he presses gloves into her hands, “Repeat after me Elsa,” he urges after she doesn’t respond, “Don’t let them know.” He grips her hard on the shoulder and she tries to think of a time when his touch didn’t send shockwaves of fear through her. _Before the accident_ , her mind supplies after it tapes down the fear bubbling in her stomach.

“Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know,” Elsa mumbles back to him, not meeting his eyes.

“Look at me Elsa, I’m doing this for your own good, you understand, don’t you?” Agnarr thinks often of his father in these moments. His own father had been a stern man, he himself had very few fond memories of him, but the beloved stories others had told of his father had filled in the gaps in a much more flattering way. Every time he presses new gloves into his eldest’s daughter’s hands some part of him thinks that he’s more like his father than he realizes; he finds that this thought does not scare him.

“Yes Papa,” Elsa’s big blue eyes meet his own, it unnerves him for a moment, but he moves past it and holds her gaze.

“Good, be a good girl, I have a meeting that I need to prepare for, I’ll be back later,” he gets up to leave, placing a hand on her shoulder for a moment. Elsa flinches away on contact. Agnarr tries to not look like he’s rushing out the door afterwards.

“Okay Papa.” He hears Elsa’s voice for only a moment before the door slams shut behind him.

The gloves help for maybe a week or so, but Elsa’s powers outgrow the placebo all too quickly. He has the tailor keep making gloves anyways, Elsa was growing so fast it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

Agnarr worked hard to balance his duties to his kingdom with his duties to his family. Arendelle always had some problem or another that needed his assistance, from trade negotiations to petty business disputes nothing seemed too big or too small for his attention. The same could not be said for his family, managing Elsa’s training, both her lessons and her powers requiring immense supervision, took the majority of his time away from the rest of his family.

He saw Iduna and Anna as often as he could, but he knew that what he could offer wasn’t nearly enough; not even close to what they deserved. Anna knew him much like he knew his own father, only in passing. It wasn’t the life he imagined for his child.

Before the incident, he and Iduna had briefly thought of trying for another child. Agnarr had been hesitant to even try for a second child after Elsa’s powers had manifested, but Anna’s normalcy had calmed him considerably. They had thought of a boy, a young prince to be doted on by his older sisters, a capable leader that would watch over his sisters when he himself was long gone. But those thoughts were long behind them now.

Agnarr knew the way to Elsa’s chambers well, he walked the path almost every day, and every day the halls seemed longer and colder than before.

“Have you been practicing Elsa?” He notes the frost coating the windows with a nod of disappointment.

“Yes father,” he only nods in response, they had had this conversation many times before, nothing had changed. Her powers only grew, and her control weans more and more; the guards had taken to wearing their winter uniforms if they were stationed in her hallway. They never asked about the chill, it was not their place.

Once however, an unexpected diplomatic visitor had wandered near the eldest princess’ quarters and asked about the chill. Agnarr had said it was a new type of treatment for the princess. The diplomat didn’t look convinced but takes the answer along with a renegotiated trade deal. Luckily there were very few of these incidents, but it was getting harder and harder to hide Elsa’s condition. He couldn’t dangle a better trade agreement in front of every visitor that happened upon their icy little secret. It would ruin Arendelle faster than a flash freeze.

“Conceal, don’t feel Elsa, don’t let your powers control you,” he urges as he presses new gloves into her hands. They were nearing two years after the accident, both Elsa and her powers had grown considerably.

“I’m trying father!” At her outburst ice shoots up the wall. Realizing her mistake, she immediately tries to calm herself, “I’m sorry for that outburst, I’ll try to be better, I’ll try to be good.”

“I should hope so, it’s been almost two years and you haven't gained any control at all!” He slams his fist on the desk and doesn’t fail to notice the way the room gets even colder. His rage burns under his skin in a way that is completely new.

“I can’t help it! They’re only getting stronger!” Elsa pleads, unused to the anger emanating from her father, terrified of what it might mean. Moving incrementally closer to her father to try and sooth him in some way.

“Then try harder!” He screams back at her, the insolence of the child, after everything they had sacrificed. His own brush with magic when he was only a few years older than she had nearly killed him, what hope was there for her living with it all these years? “Your mother and I have been working with you for years and we’ve nothing to show for it, and you dare say you’re trying,” the ironic iciness of his tone is lost on them both. 

“I am trying, I just can’t … I can’t control them,” Elsa steps forward again, trying to convince her father that his efforts hadn’t been wasted all of these years; that _she_ hadn’t been a waste of their time. She reaches out to him, a first in years, pulling lightly on the sleeve of his thick wool jacket and watches his shoulders slump momentarily in resignation.

Agnarr calms for only a moment before exploding again, “Why can’t you do this!” He roars as he rips his arm from her light grasp, he turns to face her for only a moment before he backhands Elsa hard across the face, sending her sprawling to the ground that freezes on contact. He doesn’t even fully realize what he’s done until it’s long over. He freezes for a moment as a million thoughts rush through his mind, the loudest of which echoes: _Maybe if you’d only taken care of this years ago you wouldn’t have this problem now._ Meanwhile, Elsa looks back at him in abject horror. Trying to move away from him but the ice she created only causes her to slip back on her back repeatedly. The ice slowly spreads from where she’d fallen, only exacerbating the problem.

His rages cools slowly, he watches Elsa struggle to rise from the place where she had fallen. The girl is panicked and the ice spreads slowly across the floor, quickly coating the windows and the ceiling. There had been no progress for years, he shouldn’t be surprised that there wasn’t any today. His disappointment is plain on his face although he doubts Elsa even sees it as she struggles to even move from her spot on the floor.

Agnarr straightens himself, not bothering to offer a hand to help her up. Avoiding the ice, he makes his way to the door. He offers her only a passing glance before he shuts the door with a resounding thud that echoes throughout the lonely hallway. He takes the long-unused key from his breast pocket and locks the door. He notices the briefest of looks that the guards give him but chooses to ignore it. Knowing his wife was bound to visit later he leaves the key with them. The guards having seen his mood, don’t bother greeting him as he walks past back to the rest of society. 

It’s only afterwards that Agnarr worries about the ramifications of the strike. As sick as it sounded, it felt _right_ to strike her. Corporal punishment was not unheard of when a child was being particularly disobedient, and Elsa hadn’t been obedient in years. However, he knew that Iduna wouldn’t approve. For weeks Agnarr worries that she’ll tell her mother about the strike, but Elsa says nothing to either of them and the slight bruise along her jawline fades quickly. When the mark is gone for good, he finds what little remorse he had when it first appeared completely gone.

-

Iduna was worried after the bruise appeared on her daughter’s jaw. Elsa wouldn't speak a word of how it happened and refused any medical treatment she offered. _It’s fine mother, my powers will finally be of some use._ Oftentimes, when she would come to see her Elsa would try and refuse to even let her in the door.

Elsa was a few months away from turning eleven, Anna turned eight months ago with a lavish party that made all parties involved forget she wasn’t the heir apparent. They hadn’t given Elsa a real birthday party in years; her daughter claimed not to mind but Iduna seriously doubted that any child would pass up the opportunity for cake and presents. Elsa had spent over the past two years locked in a space that hardly amounted to a slightly nicer prison cell. In her sister’s absence, Anna had started to act out, and it only escalated as the isolation went on. Initially Anna was satisfied with only sneaking into Elsa’s wing and knocking on her door. After that yielded little results, she started to openly ask them about her sister’s condition. They had agreed to never tell Anna of her sister’s true condition and had no answer for her. Anna would only grow more discontent with her situation Iduna feared—they had no reason to keep _her_ locked up in the castle after all.

Ironically enough, Anna takes to sneaking out of the castle soon after, her guards usually manage to catch her somewhere between the bakery and the chocolate store but it’s more than clear to them that they can’t isolate her forever.

Agnarr knew that Anna needed friends and freedom and a _life_ to grow into the ruler that Arendelle _needed_. The closed castle doors would help no one. He saw the guilt that had slowly eaten his wife as they locked Elsa away. He couldn’t force her to endure this anymore. He spent just as much time trying to balance the affairs of the kingdom as he did trying to keep this changeling in line.

His people deserved better. His family deserved better. He strengthened his resolve. They couldn’t live like this, something had to be done.

-

Agnarr takes Elsa alone in a sleigh under the guise of talking to the trolls again. To the rest of the kingdom, they would be going to see a specialist far north of Arendelle. He insisted that Iduna stay back with Anna, and she agreed with a little reluctance. Instead he had taken them far into the woods, almost a day's ride in. Some part of him recognizes that it was almost the same path he took almost fifteen years ago with his own father, but he brushes it off as mere coincidence. He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. Night was beginning to fall. He hoped that the cover of darkness would serve him well. He stopped the sleigh and asked Elsa to go ahead and see if the trolls were awake. Her gait was quick and quiet, quickly moving deeper into the woods that weren’t familiar at all.

He pulls his gloves taught. The King drew the sword at his belt as quietly as he could. He would make this as quick and painless as possible, he wasn’t a sadist. Despite his best efforts Elsa’s ears perk and she turns around to face him.

“Papa?” Her bright blue eyes stared into his soul. The word that she hadn’t used in years gives him pause, but only for a moment. She sees the sword and takes a quick muted step back. “What are you doing?”

“Elsa, I’m doing this for your own good,” his step forward is matched by a step back. He vaguely remembers staring down at the too quiet newborn. Her bright newborn eyes exceedingly disquieting and unnerving. How cold she was to the touch that, immediately after delivery, the midwife had thought her stillborn, until those big blue eyes opened. Anna’s eyes had been the same shade but had eventually darkened to a more human color, Elsa’s had not.

“No, please, I’ll be good,” the girl had always been quick on the uptake, a trait that would have served her well if she had _only_ been born normal. Elsa tries to back up further but her back hits a tree and she freezes and so does the ground below her. The words barely even register. Agnarr remembers entering this forest and leaving without his father. How magic had taken his father from him, how _hard_ he had tried to trust and love his own flesh and blood when she was born with magic. How _relieved_ he was when Anna was born normal. How long he and his family had tried to help Elsa when she was already incorrigible. Arendelle would survive with a single heir, he would make sure of it. The King, having given up on being a father to this creature long ago, advances. Elsa cowers and slides down to the base of the tree, closing her eyes for what she assumes is her last moment. He swings.

Spikes of ice shot up from the ground before his sword could get any closer. They knocked the blade from his hand and grazed his left side hard enough to wound but not kill. Elsa stares up at him through tear-laden eyes, equally terrified of her father and herself.

“Papa?” She covers her mouth as if that’s what hurt him.

He forces himself to take a step back, weighing his options for only a moment before saying, “Get going, keep walking and don’t look back,” he clutched the wound at his side and sheathed his sword. The woods would take care of this problem for him.

“Papa, you’re hurt!” It’s then that Elsa rises and takes a tentative step forward, tiny hands reaching for him and all he can think of is his father’s death at the hands of those who associate with magic.

“And who’s fault is that? Get out of my sight! You’re nothing but a monster! You hurt your own sister! Your own father! What else will you destroy?”

“I’m not…” she’s unable to find the words to defend herself as ice quickly spreads out from her feet.

“Magic is evil Elsa, there is nothing good that can come from it, the kingdom is better off without you, everyone is better off without you,” he turns away and misses the large tears that freeze to her face. He misses the way that she breaks the ice holding her in place and runs further into the forest. He misses it all, and he finds that he doesn’t care. He heads back to his sleigh and starts to formulate a story that explains both his injuries and Elsa’s absence. It’s a long ride back to the palace, he has time.

-

Elsa keeps running further and further into the forest. The trees all blur together as she keeps going. The direction that she picked was simply the opposite that her father was in. She never considered trying to follow him back to the palace, there was nothing for her there. In her split-second musings, her foot caught on a branch and she ends up sprawled out on the forest floor. It’s only then that she can try and process her situation: she has no place to return to, no money, and no idea where she is.

She wills her powers to cooperate and she is graced with a simple tent made of ice. She crawls inside, ready for this nightmare to be over, at least for today. The hunger that had been gnawing at her starts to tear into her at full force once she’s stopped moving. The beast inside her stomach keeps her awake so long that total exhaustion is the only thing to quell her mind enough to sleep. It’s dreamless thankfully.

Elsa wakes in the morning far from rested but knowing that she must keep moving. She couldn’t see the sky anymore, there were no spirits dancing in the sky, no moon, and no stars. There was no way of navigating and no paths to follow, so she just has to keep moving. The full weight of her hunger doesn’t really hit her until she’s a few days removed from her father. When it does grace her with its presence, she’s nearly knocked clear on her back by the force.

Something she had never considered until recently was just how _weak_ her body had become from her years in isolation. She hadn’t left the confines of her room in over two years, walking what had to be close to a kilometer took the wind out of her easily. Every day she would wake, walk further and further into the forest, eventually, usually when night started to fall, or she would reach a point of exhaustion she would need to stop and would set up camp as best she could. One day she tried to run the distance ahead of her and ended up puking behind a half dead bush. Spent, she sets up camp just far enough too not smell her unfortunate accident.

Raised in the palace she never had any need to know what was safe to eat and what wasn’t. She tries to follow the squirrels and birds leads and eat only what they do, doing that she’s stuck with mostly leaves, nuts, and worms. She doesn’t give in and starts digging for worms until she’s been in the woods for what must be at least a week. The ice that appears as her panic grows helps to keep her hydrated at least.

Even if she could catch something to eat, she had no way and no idea of how to make a fire, and likely eating it raw would only make her sicker than her hunger already made her feel. She’d make small snowbanks to eat and hydrate but that wouldn’t sustain her forever, she needed to find some way of getting food or she would likely die out here.

It takes another few days for the idea that she could die really set in. She supposes that this was her father’s plan, he failed to kill her, but he could just wait and hope for her to die on her own. She was a royal, first in line to inherit the throne, she had never learned any way of defending herself against neither humans nor nature. She doubted that he even expected her to last this long. Some part of her thinks, that if she hadn’t been starving, she would be seeing a slight return of her atrophied muscles.

Elsa wonders more often than she’d like if things would be easier if she’d just disappear. Her father wanted her gone, _not without good reason_ , why not just let nature take its course? Nothing keeps her going but nothing is stopping her from going forward. Whatever was left of her legs carry her on even though she lacks the knowledge as to why.

Eventually, the forest gives way to a craggy mountain pass. It’s just wide enough for a wagon but nothing more. It’s straightforward, but she has no idea if there’s anything in the other side. A strong gust of wind makes her take a step forward and her decision is made.

There’s no source of food once she’s a day into the mountain pass. Already she hadn’t been eating properly and now there wasn’t anything to eat at all. Her pace slows to a near crawl. One day, she doesn’t even have the strength to rise off the ground, so she just lays under a tent of slowly melting ice until darkness comes again. Elsa finally lets herself grieve her own situation then and lets out a sob. _Did her mother know of what her father had done? Had she been in on it? She hated to think of it, but it was likely true. Her parents had always seemed to tell each other everything, it would hardly be surprising. Would anyone know what had happened to her? What about Anna? The trolls had taken her memories, would she even remember her anymore?_ The questions rush through her brain and do nothing but torment her and in that exhaustion, the only reprieve she gets from these questions is when her body finally gives in to exhaustion.

She spends the entirety of the second day wondering if it’s worth it to continue at all. She lets the question bounce around in her head for far too long but doesn’t get an answer from anywhere. It would be easy to just roll off the cliff’s edge. She’s never been a quitter before; she’d spent weeks working on the same the same logic problem until she had it exactly right. Her father had always admired her persistence, he said that it would make her formidable queen; she thinks that he would have enjoyed it if she quit now. For better or worse she’s still not a quitter.

Even after everything she still loves her father, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual and hadn’t been mutual in years. That being said, she still found some satisfaction from the thought that he would be upset at her survival. The muscles in her face quirk into a smile that she supposes looks quite feral. The girl who spent the past two and half years locked in a room would find it unbecoming—whoever she is now almost laughs.

On the third night she hears the faintest whispers of a voice. It doesn’t say anything coherent, but something inside of her stirs. She realizes that it’s time to keep moving. It takes another day for her to rally her body into cooperating, but she gets back up.

The mountainous pass ends and opens to an open field. Even in her deprived state, she feels something different in the air. Her magic crackles and almost burns beneath her skin. The mist calls to her in a way that she could never explain, even if she wanted to. The frost beneath her fingertips burns, begging to be let out.

Despite her exhaustion, she finds herself sprinting towards the wall of mist. She has no idea what she expected to find but there’s nothing and no one behind her anymore. She walks towards the mist because there truly is no other place for her to go. She straightens her spine and walks the last few meters confidently. To her surprise, the mist opens its arms and allows her to take a few tentative steps into the darkness before it swallows her whole.


	2. those you've known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been blown away by the response on this. Thank y’all so much for reading and reviewing

The funeral had been last week. Though, in the end, there wasn’t anything to bury. After Agnarr had returned alone, bloodied and distressed, Iduna had felt as if everything had come crashing down around her. The feeling hadn’t stopped, weeks, months later.

They had sent scouts out to try and find their missing daughter, but nothing had been found. (Nothing would be found) The first few search parties had just been made up of Arendellian troops, as the pressure mounted, they allowed concerned citizens to form their own search parties. Neither found anything. The weather stayed pristine for the first two weeks that the search parties went out, but still, they couldn’t find even a trace of where the ambush happened. Her husband had given the scouts all the information about their route and any possible accidental detours they might have made, and they had searched high and low; but no sign of their daughter.

Citizens hold a makeshift vigil in the courtyard after the first few search parties don’t prove fruitful. Iduna often thinks of going down and sitting with them but thinks better of it. She needed to be strong for her family. (Even looking at the lit candles in the distance makes her want to sob uncontrollably, she can’t but she wants to)

She’s numb for the first week, the second a little more anxious, when it starts to rain at the beginning of the third everything starts to spill out. Iduna remembers first coming to Arendelle, with no family and only the basic grasp of the language she had been quickly sent to the orphanage. She had known that she had done the right thing, but the immediate cost had been too much. She had lost her family and her culture in one fell swoop and had had no time to mourn either. Now she had lost a child and had far too much time to mourn. The despair that she felt then seemed dwarfed by what she felt now.

“I should have been there; I should have insisted on going with you!” Iduna cries over the thunder, the rain ravaging any chance the scouts had of finding their daughter. It was too warm for snow; autumn was stubbornly holding on far past its expiration day. The rain drowned the freshly fallen leaves that the staff was hesitant to rake up—Anna did love to play in the leaves. Although, she doubts that snow would have helped them any more than the rain did. The forest was unforgiving like that.

“What would you have done Iduna?” And his voice is so quiet she almost doesn’t hear it over the rain. She has nothing to say to that because there is nothing to say. The pain was ever so present, but the event was already far in the past. Nothing could be done now. Agnarr says nothing more and quickly retires to his study for the night, she returns to their quarters; she doesn’t sleep that night. As the rain pours down, the thunder roars and the lightning illuminates the hollowness of the room she moves to Anna’s room and waits up in case the storm wakes her, but the girl sleeps soundly. Iduna finally find sleep the next day, it's short and fitful but gives her enough energy to be manic for the next few hours.

The council asks them gently at first and more sternly after the second month without so much as a hint of their eldest’s whereabouts to finalize the paperwork to make Anna the official heir to the throne. Agnarr relents easily after the first two weeks, Iduna holds out as long as she can. They’re breathing down her neck daily before she finally consents and signs her name. Elsa was dead in inheritance and soon every other way.

She allows the staff to start the funeral planning soon after, they get it done so quickly she assumes that they were just waiting on her to give the okay. Agnarr had been waiting patiently for her to reach whatever state of grief she’s on now to make the official pronouncement. _Princess Elsa is missing and presumed dead after an attack on her and her father’s carriage._ (Years later, they will regret saying _presumed dead_ , as at least a hundred of little girls about their daughter's age and shape will appear at their doors throughout the years, a few _so convincing_ that Iduna can’t help but believe that the girl is her daughter, she’s wrong of course, though for now they just want to put the matter to bed).

The funeral is widely attended, though barely anyone knew Elsa even in passing. She realizes belatedly that _she_ barely knew her daughter. She knew much more than the people that gathered for the funeral but not nearly enough. Elsa’s whole life had been a secret towards the end. Her life had been a secret to their citizens, her powers had been a secret to Anna, that slight bruise had been a secret to even Iduna. Agnarr, who had arguably known her better than she, didn’t know Elsa. No one did. Not what she liked or disliked or what she really wanted in life. Her life had long been devoid of pleasure; Elsa’s life had been wasted and they had been the ones to waste it.

Later, too many mourners shake her hand and lament the life that Elsa likely had in front of her. Though, Iduna no longer knows what her life would have looked like behind closed doors.

Agnarr is stoic and silent throughout the whole prolonged mourning period. As a child, she saw only the briefest of glances of the King’s funeral, though she heard from her better-connected friends that Agnarr had cried almost non-stop. Now he greets every mourner with the grace and poise truly befitting a King. He picks up Anna when she’s seen too much grief to last a lifetime in the span of a few hours and allows her to be taken back to her room without any fuss. He holds her late at night after the people have all left. And yet, something seems off about him.

-

The fall harvest festival is a somber affair that occurs only a few weeks after Elsa’s disappearance. The citizens know enough about the incident to know to keep their merriment to more demure levels. True to this, the entire castle stays eerily silent throughout the subdued festivities, offering only the shortest of speeches before retreating back inside where they await news that will never come.

By Elsa’s birthday, they’ve already buried an empty casket. Some deep part of her thinks that she should be grateful that Elsa’s birthday falls on the winter solstice. It’s the shortest day of the year and the lack of daylight gives her less time to think about it. She has the staff plan a short memorial for the citizens but chooses not to attend.

Agnarr knows better than to try and disturb her on that day, a pattern that inadvertently continues for years. (Even years later she still doesn’t know what to do with herself.) The staff does its best to try and keep Anna from interfering with her process.

She knows that the first Christmas after will be another sad day, within the same week no less, so she always tries to get it all out of her system for Anna’s sake; she deserved to have at least one good holiday during the month.

So, when Anna wakes them up earlier than anyone has any right to, she’s all smiles and laughs. She races down with Anna to see what Santa had brought, drinks more eggnog than necessary, and grins wider than she thought possible after all of her grief and at the end of the day feels better than she thinks she has any right to.

( _After_ the only way she could describe it. There were no words or feelings she could better ascribe to it.)

She has a visceral memory, not of Elsa’s actual birth which was laced with pain, but the way the midwife didn’t cry out the sex after she was finally done with the pushing. Despite her weakened state she still recognized the icy silence coming from the baby. She had seen enough babies being born back in the village to know what a baby’s first moment in the world was supposed to sound like, Elsa’s sounded nothing like it should have. The midwife had frantically swaddled the baby in an attempt to warm it up. Agnarr was sent out for more hot water. She’s sure that she doesn’t want to face this alone but the midwife sent him out at the first sign of trouble. Iduna had just barely managed to sit up, wanting to at least see her child, even it was already too late. The midwife nervously hands over the large bundle of blankets as Iduna gets her first look at her baby. She strokes its cheek if only to feel the lack of warmth, ice-cold to the touch. Elsa, they’ll later decide, decides that’s the moment to open her eyes. Big blue orbs stare up at her and Iduna is already in love. The midwife sags to the floor in relief. She feels tears prick her own eyes in relief.

She lets the baby go only long enough for the recently recovered midwife to check the sex.

Agnarr bursts through the door with Kai and the hot water, anticipating bad news but finding his wife cooing at their firstborn instead.

“Are … are they okay?” He walks up to them slowly, not totally believing his eyes. Iduna can just barely remember how scared her husband had been walking in. There were always risks but neither of them had ever given much thought to them—their lives had both been marred by death, they wanted to avoid dwelling on the topic where a new life was involved. She does remember how he sags in relief at the sight of the baby reaching out to her. He staggers towards them.

“She gave us quite a scare, but everyone is fine,” the midwife quickly replies, having recovered from her own meltdown, taking the water from Kai and starting to prepare a bath.

“She’s perfect Agnarr, come meet your daughter,” she pulls him towards them with more strength than she thought possible after everything she’d been through but finds it in herself somewhere. The baby reaches up to him and she watches the moment her husband falls in love with her.

They’re lost in the haze of having a new baby for so long they almost forget about a name. There had been countless meetings and lists and debates before this but everything they had decided on seemed trivial now. “I know you wanted to name her after your mother, but after meeting her I don’t think that Andrea suits her.”

Agnarr can’t help but agree, his own mother had died giving birth to him, it was a heavy name for a child to carry. “What about some of the names from our list?”

“None of those are right either, she’s special, I can feel it, she can’t just be a Mia or Lisbeth,” she’s fighting sleep now, her adrenaline finally wearing off after hours and hours of labor. But she couldn’t sleep until this matter was settled.

“What about Elsa?” He says suddenly, the name is like a lightning bolt of inspiration that flies across his face.

“Elsa? I like it,” she says as she finally let’s sleep take her. In the morning she finds that she still likes the name. As soon as she wakes again Agnarr regales her of how they had finally put Elsa in the warm bath to clean her up. It was only then that she started to cry. They tried again with cold water and Elsa went in without complaint.

Elsa’s delivery had been unnecessarily hard, but she was an unimaginably easy baby. She rarely woke in the middle of the night or complained too loudly about being fed late. Anna was the opposite—her delivery had been a breeze in comparison and as a baby, she had been a little hellion. She cried constantly, constantly begging for attention or food or something that they couldn’t understand amongst her cries. Elsa had been an amazing big sister though, keeping Anna entertained and happy for hours. (The name Anastasia had come much easier, meeting Anna for the first time had been far less jarring, the name _Anna_ seemed to fit the newborn immediately)

Elsa’s powers had been a strange wonder that didn’t fully manifest until she was a few weeks old. Iduna can’t help but think of the forest and the home she long left behind at the sight of her daughter’s magic. And it feels like a good time to tell Agnarr of her, and by extension, their daughter’s, heritage but she freezes when she sees the moment of fear in her husband’s eyes as he watches the small puffs of snow leave their child’s hands. He recovers quickly but the fear was there all the same. She says nothing, thinking that there would be plenty of time to ask later

Iduna tries to hold those memories close to her heart these days but knowing how the story ends taint the memory ever so slightly.

In long moments of weakness, Iduna allows herself to wander Elsa’s old room. She takes down every book, not quite remembering which she had left notes in. She doesn’t quite remember how many notes she left but after finding over twenty she’s sure that Elsa found none of them. She rereads all of them and feels all the worse afterward.

Agnarr is quite for a long time after the funeral, throwing himself into his work. She often finds him fast asleep in his study in the moments she wakes in the middle of the night. (Which become less and less the further they get from the funeral) She drapes blankets over him whenever their situations line up and eventually works up the courage to talk to him about it.

He spends more time with Anna, seeing personally to her education as the new heir. She loves the fact that they have the time to really bond.

She watches as Anna flourishes with the open gates. Making more friends in a month than she had in the past eight years.

Agnarr waits several years before he asks her about having another child. The last time they had talked of it had been long before they made the decision to confine their own daughter to be a prisoner in her own home. Some part of her hoped that this would never come up again, another is relieved to get it all out in the open. She knows that she still has a few years until she can no longer bear children, but it’s too late all the same.

“I’m willing to wait as long as you need Iduna, I just don’t want us to look back having missed our window,” he’s pleading, even if he doesn’t mean to. Elsa’s death had been harder on him than he will ever admit, and she knows that he wants to make it right somehow, this isn’t the right way.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to have another child,” and maybe he had never shown it, but she knew of his fear at Anna’s birth—both of them had been relieved when Anna came into the world screaming bloody murder.

“Please, just think about it Iduna,” he turns away from her, not willing to meet her eyes with how badly he wanted this.

“I have, I know that I’m done having children, Elsa and Anna were enough for me, that hasn’t changed.”

“Things have changed though,” he turns to her and she can see the unshed tears in his eyes, the tears he held in for god knows how long. There was no fight in them, only regret.

“They have, but this won’t bring Elsa back,” she says softly, not wanting to set him off, to her surprise the tears welling up in his eyes let loose in a torrent. She holds him as he breaks down, sobbing like a child, and strokes his back lovingly whispering sweet nothings as he works through it. She knows then that she’s waited too long to tell him, but it was far too late now. They would get through this as a family first, everything else could wait. 

-

Anna struggles with Elsa’s death. She doesn’t remember her sister well at all, and what she does remember is all covered in a layer of snow. _Literally_. Every memory of her sister has them playing in the snow together. _Surely, they had to have interacted during the summer?_ Anna can’t help but wonder. Her parents cite a head injury that she got when she was about five as the source of the gaps, but it sounds _wrong_ somehow.

In the weeks before the funeral her parents have a large ornate photo of Elsa commissioned for the service. The day before it’s to be displayed for the general public Anna runs back and forth between the church and the main hallway to compare it with the family portrait. Elsa, though she’s only painted from the waist up, looks taller and quieter, Anna concludes. For hours after this conclusion, she stays, rooted, in front of the painting in the hall. There would be no more with Elsa. And it takes a while for that to sink in. Kai eventually uproots her and takes her to supper, but she’s still stuck on that portrait even after they give her extra chocolates for dessert.

While digging through her toy trunk she runs across a doll that she doesn’t remember at all. The white hair and the blue button eyes give it away though. It feels wrong to call the doll Elsa, so she settles with Elsie.

Elsie doesn’t talk to her either, but she can spend time with her. Which was more than Elsa could do for the past three years.

Life in the castle changes a lot after the funeral. The months leading up to it her father locks himself away with his work, her mother spends time with her but often excuses herself to cry in the next room over. Anna only knows this because the walls aren’t thick enough to muffle the sound. She tries to go to her mother the first few times, but Gerda stops her and insists that this is something that her mom has to work through on her own.

Anna doesn’t really know _how_ to react to her sister’s death. She hadn’t known her in years and all the memories she did have of her didn’t even feel real. She cries when her father returns home hurt, although she doesn’t get to see him until he’s already been stitched and bandaged up; she cries at her sister’s funeral, although later she chalks it up to exhaustion more than anything. She hadn’t felt much more than loneliness and occasionally anger in her sister’s presence (absence) in years, being able to feel something else is so foreign it feels wrong.

A few weeks after the funeral her parents open the gates to the castle again and then Anna has more playmates than she can count. She sees mostly private tutors within the castle walls but, now her afternoons are filled with other kids her own age recently freed from their own studies.

Her mother swears that she knows all of her future subjects’ names within the first week, Anna’s sure that’s a lie, but six months after the funeral it may as well be the truth. Her mother is never really over what happened to Elsa but seems to move past it to live with her in the moment.

Her father is slow to open himself back up after the ambush but when he does, he’s more present than he’s ever been. He sits in on her lessons, sneaks her into trade negotiations and out of them when they grow dull, brings her tea to break up her morning lessons among a myriad of other things that Anna could only dream of before.

She’s the heir to the throne now, which means more schooling, more etiquette lessons, and more time with her parents. Every now and then she spares a moment to wonder whether Elsa felt the impending weight of the crown the same way that she did.

When the first snow falls over a year after her sister’s death, Anna feels something like longing, and she can’t seem to put her finger on it. When there’s enough snow she builds a snowman with Elsie, but the feeling doesn’t go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if updates will be super regular but I’m trying


	3. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, it means a lot

Elsa doesn’t know how long it’s been when she wakes up again. She hears the faint crackle of a fire and feels the weight of a blanket draped above her and for a moment she thinks that she must have dreamt the whole event. Then she opens her eyes.

“Oh, you’re finally awake child,” the voice comes from just beyond her line of sight. A small fire rests in the center of the building and the blanket covering her up to her chin is a thick fur that she can’t recognize. The roof of the building curves up to a small opening, letting a small trickle of smoke out.

“Where… where am I?” She tries to sit up and finds that the exertion leaves her breathless. She sags back into the furs with little protest. It wasn’t cold, not to her, never to her, but the weight of the blankets is comforting.

“The enchanted forest, some of our scouts found you near the mist, half-dead, how long were you out there by yourself?” There’s too much information in too little time and Elsa is overwhelmed.

“I’m … I’m not sure, maybe two weeks, maybe three, I can’t really remember anything that well right now,” Elsa tries to search her brain for a timeline, but the days and nights all blur together. She could have been on that road for a week or a month and it would have felt the same in her mind. “Who are you?” She wants to sound defiant, like Anna at bedtime, but it comes out meek—too much like herself for longer than she can remember.

“I am Yelena, leader of the Northuldra people, who are you?” The owner of the voice comes into view and Elsa sees the face of an older woman with long graying hair and warm tawny skin. She looked like no one she had ever seen in Arendelle before. The language she spoke was similar enough to what they spoke in Arendelle but different enough that Elsa often had to think a moment to process what had been said before responding.

The long streaks of white in the older woman’s hair made Elsa self-conscious of her own. Her mother had often insisted that it was just a pale blond, platinum perhaps. But whenever she looked in the mirror her hair just looked whiter and whiter the longer she looked. No one in her family had anything even remotely similar. Although she had met none of her grandparents throughout her childhood, she doubted that any of them sported the same shade, not in their youth at least. She looked like her mother, she knew that, but her hair was one of the many things that made her feel like less like she belonged in the family.

She’s lost in her own musings for a long time. She finally realizes that she was supposed to respond and feels her face flush at how long she made the old woman wait.

“Elsa of Ar-,” she wonders for a long moment if it’s even worth mentioning her royal status, her father had made his opinion of her very clear in their last meeting, she was unsure what her mother and sister though but their opinions seemed minor after everything that had happened. “Elsa, just Elsa,” Yelena notices her stumble but seems to choose not to comment on it and Elsa likes her already, just for that.

“What were you doing out there Elsa?” her scouts had found the girl right on the edge of the mist, anyone from the forest knew better than to stay too close to it. When they had brought her back, she had been starved and cold to the touch had she not been breathing they would have been sure that she was dead. They brought her back, because what else would they have done? They couldn’t just leave her out there to die. Yelena had been slowly nursing the girl back to health in the interim. Another child to add to her brood.

Finding herself bold for reasons she can’t name Elsa replies, “My father abandoned me,” and it felt good for her to say it out loud. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Did he leave you close to the mist? How did you get here?”

“I don’t know where he … left me,” Elsa finds her boldness gone just as quickly as it had come. “I just kept walking and I ended up here.” She didn’t know what to say anymore, her strength wanes, and she feels her eyelids closing despite her desire to continue the conversation.

“Sleep now child, we can talk later.” Elsa hears as she drifts off to another night of dreamless sleep.

-

Elsa recovers slowly, Yelena made sure to not overfeed her after her long brush with starvation. It takes a little under a month for Elsa’s strength to return fully. She doesn’t venture too much further from the hut she’s been relegated to. She catches only the briefest glimpses of the other villages, and the glimpses that she does catch do nothing to tell her of where she is exactly.

Yelena stops by her hut often with food or herbs to help keep her strength up. They speak often and Elsa slowly starts to get a grip on the new dialect. They speak about almost nothing, but Elsa finds some comfort in the drivel.

You’re from Arendelle, aren’t you?” Yelena has the tact to wait a week at least after Elsa’s out of the woods, recovery wise.

“Yes,” Elsa, really, could have guessed that this was coming.

“How did you get through the mist?”

“I’m not sure,” she could barely remember those days as is, “I could feel my mag-“ she stops herself short, not sure if it wise to reveal her status to the old woman, “ _myself_ reacting to the area and I just walked up to it and it opened up to me.” Elsa doesn’t miss the way that her comment gives Yelena pause. The mist, of all the things she barely remembered on her trek, seemed the most made-up. The thing most likely caused by her brain slowly starving to death.

“Would you be willing to try and go back through the mist?”

_No_ , Elsa wants to say immediately—she has no explanation, her entire body screams out in protest at the mere thought, but that wasn’t a reason—she knew how much she owed the Northuldra people for their kindness, so instead she answers “Yes,” after a moment of hesitation. Yelena offers a quiet smile and lets her go back to sleep; they’ll travel back to the mist as soon as Elsa’s well enough to make the journey on foot.

Elsa had learned long ago that her feelings didn’t matter much. She didn’t know if anything had changed. 

Yelena takes a few scouts with her and Elsa to try and see if whatever forces had allowed Elsa into the mist would allow the opposite. Yelena had only given her the briefest explanation of how the mist appeared to function. No one had been allowed in or out in the past 20 years—yet Elsa had made it through. Yelena briefly introduces her to the other scouts, but Elsa is so wrought with anxiety about going back to the mist that she forgets their names almost instantly.

The village is about half a day’s walk away from the mist, they could probably make the round trip in a single day, but Yelena has them set up camp when they’re a few hours away. Elsa stares up at the fog covered sky and finds that she misses the stars more than she thought possible. Back when she was confined to her room the stars were her constant companion, she knew the constellations by heart and had created a few of her own. That was all behind her now.

The scouts don’t try and engage her in conversation, and she doesn’t try and engage them either. The group is made up of a five people including herself and Yelena, a man only slightly younger than Yelena, and a man and a woman that were likely younger than her own parents. They all shoot her cautious and curious glances but don’t speak to her.

When she looks up at the covered sky that night she’s met with a strange sense of calm. Elsa falls asleep on her bedroll and, for the first time, dreams of something other than her father advancing towards her with a drawn blade. The stars in her dreams whisper of the life she left behind. Facing the alternative, Elsa finds that she doesn’t mind.

When they finally reach the wall of mist the next morning Elsa can sense that something’s wrong. She had known that this journey would be futile from the moment it was mentioned, but her feelings now only confirmed it. The air that used to be so welcoming and inviting was cold and distant. They had made a mistake by coming here. Despite her misgivings, she walks up to the mist anyways. She reaches out to see if the mist will part like it did not so long ago. What happens instead is almost like a violent shock that goes through her body—she seizes, and her knees give out on her almost immediately. Her powers lash out trying to fight something that isn’t there, creating a wave of ice that separates her from the mist. She’s flung back violently, and her ears ring so she can just barely hear the shouts of the Northuldra scouts scrambling as they watched the ice unfold.

“Spirits!” Yelena, Elsa thinks, screams at the ice as she scrambles back from the wall of ice. Thankfully, it had finally stopped growing. Elsa feels the skin on her hands bleed from being tossed like a ragdoll. The new clothes that Yelena had given her having protected her knees from suffering the same fate. She’s still on her hands and knees when she’s accosted.

“What was that?” One of the scout’s, having regained his bearings, stands up abruptly and rushes over to her, gripping her hard on the shoulder in order to better scream at her.

“I don’t know! It just happened; I can’t control it all of the time!” Elsa screams back at him, her ears having barely stopped ringing. The grip on her shoulder reminding her far too much of her father. He only hit her once, but his grips often turned suffocating; without wanting to she flashes back to a time that is not yet far enough behind her. She tries to wiggle out of the grip, but he holds tight. Her breaths come out shorter and shorter.

“What are you? A spirit? An Arendellian spy? Some demon?” He continues to grill her, and Elsa can barely keep up with his questions. She was breathing but she wasn’t getting even remotely the amount of air that she needed.

“That’s enough Haldreth! Give the girls some space!” Yelena forces Haldreth to let go of her shoulder. “Elsa was that you?” Yelena places both of her hands on either of her shoulders as gently as she could, asking the her at a bare whisper. Yelena had seen spirits her entire life, never had she seen a human with comparable powers, and there was no doubt that the ice had come from Elsa.

“Yes!” Elsa screams back, not sure why she’s still at this volume. Back at the palace she had hardly spoken to anyone, it was a strange kind of relief to be able to scream if she needed to.

“Take a deep breath with me, Elsa,” Yelena says, keeping her even tone, Elsa follows her directions best she can and feels herself calming a minute amount. She repeats the breathing exercise until she feels like she can speak without screaming. “Are you okay?” Elsa nods briefly and she continues, “How long have you had these powers?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“What are-” Yelena is cut off by the thundering of boots coming towards them. Elsa can only guess what question was coming next and she thanks whoever was rushing towards them, even if they were dangerous. Towards the end her father had stopped considering her human, he never said anything to her directly, but she could read between the lines herself—she didn’t need anyone else questioning what she was. The mixture of her powers and all of the yelling having drawn attention to their precarious situation.

A troupe of soldiers comes into the clearing, Elsa doesn’t recognize any of their faces, not that she was expecting to, but their presence unnerves her more than she thought it would. A moment ago, she had been a thankful for their arrival, already she thought better of that. She takes a step back while the rest of the party stands to meet their unintended guests.

The Northuldra people seem to know the soldiers. The leader, Elsa assumes from the number of stars on his shoulder, steps forwards to greet them properly. He’s tall and cuts an imposing figure in is uniform, his dark hair perfectly coiffed despite the forest he likely lived in. He walks up to the rest of the group the same way a tomcat would a henhouse; playful but no less dangerous.

“Mattias, still alive I see,” Elsa vaguely recognizes the uniform the man is wearing but doesn’t know his face. Anna would, she was always the one who was better at remembering people—Elsa’s specialty had always been information. Her chest aches at the mere thought of her sister.

“I could say the same about you Yelena,” _Mattias_ jabs back. He’s older up close, Elsa realizes belatedly. Somewhere in the range of where her grandfather would have been had he lived to see her birth.

“I’ll outlive you easily, won’t be too hard with you knocking on death’s door,” Yelena laughs, and Elsa takes a tentative step forward to get a better look at the soldiers.

“Who’s this?” He says, catching a glimpse of Elsa. Elsa feels embarrassed that her first instinct is to hide behind Yelena’s skirt. She hadn’t even done that with her own mother in over five years.

“This is Elsa, my new charge,” Yelena dismisses him with a wave of her hand but that doesn’t stop him from staring. Elsa had guessed as much but hearing it out loud makes it all the more real—she had a new family, or a new family claimed her at least. The way Mattias examines her unease’s Elsa. He looks as if she’s familiar to him or he knows her somehow. Elsa knows that she doesn’t know him.

“Where’s she from? I swear I’ve seen her before,” he articulates the look that is plain across his face. It’s almost funny.

“Your eyes must be going Mattias, she’s just a child from the village,” Yelena says easily, and Mattias looks far from convinced but backs off enough that Elsa feels like she breathes easy again.

“What’s the commotion about?” One of the soldiers asks forcefully. Not drawing their weapon but taking an offensive stance. They glance at the slowly retreating ice with visible disgust. Elsa feels almost insulted.

“We were trying something new to get out of the mist. It didn’t work.” Yelena says shortly, trying desperately to cut the conversation short. She feels the air grow colder steadily, just like it did before Elsa made the ice wall. Exacerbating the situation wouldn’t help anyone.

“Using magic again? Isn’t that how we all got into this situation in the first place?”

“We didn’t start this; you were the ones to anger the spirits in the first place!” The woman guard, her name was something like Mia, Elsa thinks, spits out like venom. Elsa doesn’t turn to look but can feel the others gathering behind her.

“We didn’t do anything; you attacked us after we offered you nothing but kindness and hospitality!” A soldier angrily responds as the others gather behind them.

“Hospitality? Is that what you call what you did? How could you even offer such a thing on land that wasn’t yours?”

“This forest is on Arendellian land, what else would you call it?”

“The forest doesn’t belong to anyone, least of all a kingdom where none of its inhabitants have ever stepped foot on its soil!”

The barbs fly back and forth and in between Elsa learns more about the shared history of the two peoples that she never did during the entirety of her education. The only mention of the Northuldra people in Arendelle history was in the death of her grandfather. The language having been banned from being taught or spoken long before she was born. She wouldn’t’ believe that they even existed had she not met them herself.

Elsa sees one of the soldiers draw their sword and one of her escorts tighten his grip on his spear. The energy had changed a while ago, but the hostility had slowly but surely started to boil over. Elsa had watched birds from her window fight over scraps of bread, she could guess when a fight was brewing. Before they can make a move to act on their desires Elsa lets her powers loose. She freezes the ground beneath their feet and watches almost bemusedly as the would-be battleground turns into an ice-skating rink. Though without the skates everyone’s feet just slip out from under them.

She watches everyone futilely try and regain their footing only to crash down a moment later. She lets out a laugh, a real laugh, and then can’t stop herself as she devolves into a fit of giggles. It had been a long time since she had laughed, and the feeling is so freeing she feels unequivocally light.

“Elsa, did you mean to do this?” Yelena asks as calmly as she can from her prone position on the ground. Elsa still stood as if the ice were solid ground.

“I … I didn’t want anyone to fight,” the funny look on her face falls off quickly as she answers.

“I think you’ve seen to that; can you stop this?”

Elsa holds out her hands and wills the ice away, to her great surprise it leaves with little fuss. She watches as everyone slowly gets to their feet and take a few steps back from where she still stands.

Yelena rises slowly then addresses the now somber soldiers. “Mattias, as this discussion is over, you may take your dogs and leave.”

“We have no desire to stick around, I hope to not have a repeat of this anytime soon.” He turns to leave, and the rest of the soldiers quickly follow suit.

“I think that’s enough excitement for today, we should head back,” Yelena rallies their own shell-shocked troops to head back to the village.

Despite her misgivings, Elsa’s very glad that they went.

Yelena slows her pace to talk with her on the way back, Elsa had tried to keep to the back of the pack, Yelena signals for the woman at the actual back of the pack to go ahead. They slow to a comfortable pace and Yelena begins, “When were you going to tell me about these powers of yours?” Yelena chastises her, although Elsa barely feels the sting, and she doubts that she was meant to.

“I don’t know, maybe never if I could help it, my magic always caused problems, I’ve been trying to hide them for years,” Elsa hadn’t been the one who wanted to hide her powers originally, but her family’s feelings had soon felt like her own.

“Do you really think that you could hide magic from us forever?”

“No, but I hoped that by the time you realized it wouldn’t matter,” her powers had slowly eroded the relationship she had with her father; whoever Yelena would eventually be to her, Elsa didn’t want any bad blood between them.

“Child, don’t worry, my people have no fear of magic,” Yelena reassures her, although Elsa is far from convinced.

“All my father did was fear me because of my magic,” the words are out her mouth before she can’t think about them. It’s true though, however much her father had loved her he feared her much more.

“We’ll speak of it no more if you wish,” Elsa feels her shoulders sag in relief, “But I think that it would help if you talked to someone about it,” Elsa wants to refuse any more help—she’s already wasted so many people’s time but Yelena continues before Elsa can respond, “You don’t have to answer now child, just think about it, you can change your mind at any time.”

“Thank you,” it’s the only thing that Elsa can think to say as Yelena points them back towards the village.

-

Ryder and Honeymaren were Yelena’s other two charges. Orphaned after their parents’ disappearance while looking for a way out of the mist, Yelena had raised them as her own ever since. She hadn’t allowed them to meet Elsa until she was well again. Then she waits another week after they return from their little excursion. Just for some extra padding. Yelena had given the okay less than half an hour ago and as soon as they were free, they rushed over to where their mysterious guest stayed. Ryder nearly rips the flap off the goahti in his excitement.

“Hi! I’m Ryder and this is my big sister Honeymaren!” Ryder introduces them quickly, catching only a glimpse of white hair before starting his spiel, moving closer with each question. “We live with Yelena too! She’s our aunt but she acts like she’s our grandma, what’s your name? Where are you from? What do you think about our village?” His energy would be infectious if Elsa weren’t so tired, he reminds her of Anna so.

“Hi,” Elsa has no idea what else to say, this was the first time she had seen anyone close to her age in years. The siblings were dressed in almost matching Northuldra tunics, at first glance she thinks them twins but thinks better of it as she examines their faces, the girl was probably older. “My name is Elsa.” She still had the clothes that they had found her in, Yelena had had them washed and returned to her, but she hadn’t worn them again. Yelena had given her a few sets of Northuldran leathers, and she had stuck with those if only to look a little less alien to her surroundings. Seeing people who actually belonged in the clothes lessened the effect.

“Hi Elsa, sorry about my brother, he likes to speak before he thinks,” the girl, _Honeymaren_ , says pulling her brother aside to give Elsa some breathing room.

“Thank you,” Elsa hasn’t spoken to anyone even close to her age in years, speaking to Anna through the door didn’t count.

“Yelena says that you’re from outside the mist, what’s it like out there?” Ryder is only marginally deterred by his sister’s interference and starts their conversation up again as if nothing had happened.

“It’s different from here, we live in buildings instead of these huts.” Elsa starts but doesn’t know where to go.

“They’re called goahti’s! We build them out of sticks and reindeer hides and that makes them easy to move when the seasons change! We move the whole village a least twice a year to keep up with the reindeer. I love reindeer I think they’re so cool!” Ryder doesn’t take a breath the entire time she’s speaking and Elsa’s heart aches for Anna. She doesn’t think to respond to any of the information because it’s far too much to take in, even at face value.

“Ryder, I think that’s too much information for now, how about we do something else?” Honeymaren takes the reins of the conversation to try and steer it away from the strange dynamic of Ryder’s incessant babbling and Elsa’s nervous silence. “Do you want to play outside with us? You’ve got to be bored being cooped up in here for the past few months.”

“I don’t know,” Elsa says apprehensively, “I haven’t been outside in a long time, I don’t know how play really.”

“That’s okay, we’ll teach you!” Ryder grabs her hand pulls her out towards the light. She glances back at Honeymaren who smiles and takes her other hand and Elsa lets herself be led outside.

-

Yelena moves her out of the medical tent after she meets Ryder and Honeymaren. The four of them share a large goathi. She guesses that the total area of the hut is smaller than that of her old room but it’s much homier. She and Honeymaren were almost the same age, Honeymaren being a few months younger but far bolder, helps her learn the chores expected of her and the routine helps that part of her life feel normal.

She likes Honeymaren and Ryder. She likes Yelena too for that matter, but her social circle hadn’t expanded beyond them in the months that followed her recovery. The reindeer are only creatures that will associated with her, other than Yelena, Ryder, and Honeymaren. They’re strange creatures but friendly enough. She’d always been fond of animals back in Arendelle, but her life hadn’t really offered many opportunities to act on that feeling. As a child, or at least when she was much younger than she was now, she had been a talented equestrian, prodigal even. But what she liked and didn’t stopped mattering at a certain point.

Elsa knows that most of the Northuldra people don’t trust her. She knew only the basics of what occurred 20 years ago from the argument she witnesses weeks ago, and Yelena had told others to not tell her too much of their shared past, as a vague attempt to protect her from her own guilt. It doesn’t work but Elsa appreciates the effort. The little she did know weighed her down like everything else in her life.

She knows it’s her status as an Arendellian rather than the color of her skin. They had originally planned on keeping her status as a relative secret to the rest of the village but as soon as Ryder knew half the village did. There are a handful of lighter-skinned Northuldra villagers, which surprises her. Arendelle was far from the most diverse of places but back before the gates had closed (back before her powers had become a problem) there were people from all sorts of places coming through the harbor. She didn’t recognize the Northuldra clothing or people at all when she first arrived because she had never seen anyone or anything like them.

Her powers are surprisingly easy to keep under wraps. Yelena tells everyone who went with them on their scouting mission to not speak of them and they had kept their words.

“Am I allowed to tell people?” Elsa asks, nervous about wanting the answer at all.

“You may tell people whenever you like, but I want you to be the one to decide to let others know.” The guardian had seen the fear that seemed to live in the child’s eyes. That kind of fear didn’t grow overnight. The girl had woken up crying for weeks after they returned from their scouting mission. They were never the sobs of a nightmare, Elsa always tried to be as quiet as she could whenever she had one of her crying jags, they were tears of someone unused to human comfort. Elsa had mentioned her family exactly once since she had started to stay with them, it wasn’t positive. She had never pried, and Elsa had never offered. But she knew that weighed on the girl. Yelena had no idea what Elsa is exactly. Her powers were something completely otherworldly contained in a form of a mere child. She was human enough for it to matter, yet she still had wonder.

She takes Elsa’s hands in her own, the girl was always particular about her hands, but she doesn’t pull away, “Your powers aren’t something to be feared, that will only make them work against you.” The gloves that she had been found with had been nearly unsalvageable, Yelena had patched them as much as she could, but they were wearing through in the fingers. They were the only item of clothing that Elsa still insisted on wearing.

“The trolls said that fear would be my enemy.”

“Yes, Elsa, the spirits gave you your powers for a reason, you must learn to listen to them and gain control over your gift.” Yelena can see the briefest of breaths catch in the girl’s throat at the word gift.

“How do I do that?”

“Only Ahtohallen knows,” Yelena says cryptically, and Elsa thinks that adults are the same everywhere. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you need to find this answer for yourself, no one has ever walked your path before Elsa, you must make your own destiny.”

“Can I even do that?”

“There is no question, you must, that’s it. You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of people making decisions for you, don’t you think that it’s time that you live your own life?”

And Elsa thinks that quite wise, if hard to implement. Yelena leaves without another word to tend to her own duties. Elsa sits alone by the fire for a long time after. She makes a long decision and slowly starts to peel the gloves off her hands. It was strange to have them so exposed, but it doesn’t feel wrong. She lets herself be bold and tosses them into the fire and doesn’t feel worse afterwards. She feels her powers hum in approval.

-

It is surprisingly easy to get used to living without a sky. You miss it a lot at first but eventually, the feeling fades. Elsa felt the same about her own family. The longing hadn’t left, but it was manageable now. The way she had been living before was unsustainable. She hates herself less now and that must mean something.

Yelena assigns a few of the older tribe members to keep an eye on her when she’s busy with her own duties. Elsa doesn’t care for most of them and they don’t seem to trust her either. Very few take their jobs seriously, so she’s often left alone in the woods while they continue with their own duties.

Elsa takes to mediating in the woods when this happens, the lessons her mother had tried to instill with her finally make a modicum of sense in an environment that wasn’t slowly eating her alive. The forest had called her and not spoken to her since, yet it she was more than willing to call it her home.

Her powers listen to her in a way that they never did back in Arendelle. The months spent inside her room back in Arendelle, she long thought had ruined her control for good, but it hadn’t. Her mornings were spent on chores and studying the written Northuldra language with Ryder. It was a little humiliating to be on the same level as someone three years younger than her, but it was a necessity and she was picking up the language quickly. The afternoons were her time to practices honing her skills until she started to feel like she was on the one in control.

-

“Where do you go in the afternoons?” Honeymaren asks one day, Elsa had been living with them officially for over half a year. They always woke and did the chores together before splitting up in the afternoon. Honeymaren to her combat training and Elsa to the woods.

“Come with me today,” Elsa says suddenly. It’s unlike her and Honeymaren is intrigued even more so than usual. Elsa was an enigma; she had disclosed almost nothing about herself in the months that she had known her and rarely interacted with anyone outside of their household. Maren knew that she was nervous constantly, it was written all over her face.

Maren nods quickly, not wanting to lose the opportunity. She speeds through her chores, though Elsa doesn’t show the same haste.

Elsa leads her down a forest path that isn’t familiar to Honeymaren but apparently is to Elsa. She guides the swiftly through the underbrush to a small clearing. Elsa motions for her to sit.

“It’s time that I showed you something.”

“What? Why now?”

“Because I trust you, and I don’t want to keep secrets anymore.” Maren feels the warm summer temperature start to drop out of nowhere. Elsa holds out her hands as if trying to feel rain that isn’t there. Then it starts to snow. She watches as small snowflakes appear out of thin air from Elsa’s hands.

“What is this?” She catches a snowflake and watches in rapt fascination as it melts on her skin.

“It’s me,” Elsa doesn’t meet her eyes, and Maren can feel the anxiety rolling off of her as the temperature drops even more. “I’ve had these powers since I was born.” Elsa presses her hands together for a moment when she separates them a small statue of a reindeer sits in her hands.

“It’s amazing,” Maren can only stare in awe. She reaches for the statue and Elsa hands it over gingerly. Looking closely, it’s a nearly perfect replica of one of the reindeer that had just given birth. She stares through it and sees the distorted version of Elsa anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You aren’t afraid?”

“Never,” she stands up quickly and grasps Elsa’s hands in her own. Willing Elsa to understand how she feels. And Elsa’s smile is quick that she would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring so intently; it’s so bright and blinding that Honeymaren knows already that she would do anything to protect that smile.


	4. the part i can't tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agnarr reflects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading all the comments, so thanks to everyone who commented on the previous chapters

The carriage ride back had been long enough for him to think of everything. Or enough of everything for him to buy enough time to think of things to cover the holes. The way he had taken Elsa was much longer than the route to the trolls; after the attack, he, in his injured state, had desperately looked for his daughter to no avail. (Very few people in Arendelle knew about the trolls, to begin with, he hoped for a smaller number by the end of this, and it was easy to give the location of something that may or may not exist) He gives the search parties enough misinformation to send them down an infinite number of dead ends—when it rains at the end of the third week the search is all but over. The ‘bandits’ that had ambushed their carriage used the cover of darkness, so Agnarr hadn’t gotten a good look at their faces. He had been able to guess the heights and builds of their assailants, but nothing would ever come of it. He wanted this changeling gone, not to hang unlucky criminals. Luckily the wound that Elsa had given him was a nondescript enough that when the castle physicians had stitched him up with very few questions.

He gives only a modicum of time to think of what would happen if the scouts actually did find Elsa’s body. It was unlikely but still possible. (Some part of him is deeply terrified of having to see the girl again, but it’s not like he can say anything to anyone) The scouts return with nothing in their hands and he lets out a deep _deep_ breath that he didn’t know he was holding. He says everything is fine when prompted.

The council asks them to make Anna the official heir within the first week. The council had long been a compromise between the monarchy and the more vocal citizens of Arendelle—neither really won in the situation but both pretended to be satisfied. Agnarr knows how it would look if he signed it right after his daughter disappeared, so he waits until the end of the second week—no clues had been found and it became rational to sign the measure. He lets Iduna take as long as she needs to sign the edict. The council grows tenser every day that she doesn’t sign it, but he holds them off until she’s ready.

The months immediately after Elsa’s ‘disappearance’ Agnarr sleeps surprisingly well. His dreams are empty and lonely but ultimately meaningless. (Later, much later, he misses these dreams more than he can say to anyone) Iduna tosses and turns beside him and grows thinner as the stress wears on her as the weeks goes on, but he sleeps soundly. He watches guilt weigh on his wife the longer the searches go on without any real results. And that makes him sicker than anything else.

Agnarr loves his wife more than anything. And as much as her grief moves him, it’s also far too much for circumstances that he created. And maybe that’s the first time that he feels something other than resignation about what he’s done. He knew that he was inadvertently the cause of his wife’s suffering, yet he knew that something had to be done. They couldn’t keep living like that. He had made a decision, and everyone had to live with it—no one had to live with the consequences more than himself.

He resolves to suffer with his wife as much as he can, it was only fair. The first time that he and Iduna really speak of the matter is on the eve of the third week that Elsa is gone. She can’t help but blame herself, and he can’t agree nor shoulder the blame himself, so he says instead “What would you have done Iduna?” It’s not the scream that would have been felt and heard over the auspicious storm, its’s barely over a whisper. He asks himself the same question as he answers her. She has no answer and neither does he, not really.

 _What would she have done?_ He knows that without a doubt that she would not have agreed with his decision. But Arendelle had not future had he not made the decision. Arendelle was his family’s legacy, his father’s legacy, _his_ legacy. What else could he have done?

Agnarr holds her as she fails to produce an answer. It’s the only thing that he could do that would make a difference.

He recalls meeting Iduna sometime after the whole forest debacle. Something in his brain labels her familiar, though he never figures out why or who she reminded him of. He liked her from the moment he met her though, he was sure of that.

Life after his father had been hard—uncharted territory that would have been manageable if only for _anyone_ looking out for the future of Arendelle—rather than their own self-interests. Mattias, who had been the father that Agnarr didn’t even know that he was looking for, was long gone, lost to the mist like many others. All that was left were the rich Arendellians who ran the council. None of them cared about the insurmountable grief that had been thrust upon him at a young age, nor the feeling of loss that was indescribable and that he still didn’t fully understand and likely never would.

The funeral had been unnecessarily long, Agnarr does remember that. He had loved his father despite his treatment of him and he would miss him. The service is quick, and he learns more about his father in that short period of time than he did the entirety of his childhood. But the never-ending procession of mourners was too much for him to endure. He had started crying sometime during the service and he hadn’t stopped as the line of well-wishers continued on as if everything was all well and good. The council had stood behind him and stopped him before he could even try and leave, so he doesn’t. He can’t.

Visiting dignitaries had come from away to see his father to rest. He tries to remember their names and countries as best he can between his tears. (Later, after everything is finally over, he’ll realize that he remembers everyone far too well. Their faces and countries burned into his memory forever, if only as a reminder.) The council and nearly everyone else scold him later for crying so openly. It was a sign of weakness that their allies and enemies alike now knew or would know soon. There isn’t enough of him left to care.

With no parents to speak of, his days are measured in how well he fares in his studies, how hard he works on the training grounds and how much the council likes him. The last part is stressed immensely; if the council didn’t like him it would be all too easy to make the only child of the crown disappear. His tutor only has to mention that once for the message to set in.

Despite the death of his only remaining family, not much changes around the castle. He rarely saw his father back when he was still alive, now that he was dead, he never would again, but the effect was the same. The staff had always been kind to him, even more so now that there was no one else in his life.

He meets Iduna for the first time sometime during these times. Whenever there was a spare moment in his long monotonous days, he’d taken to walking the town. Even if he was recognized there was still something to be learned, something to be gained, from these interactions. He likes meeting people outside of the castle. They’re alive in a very different way than he’s allowed to be.

They had bumped into each other while rounding a hard corner and unconsciously started a pattern. She had knocked him flat on his back just by bumping into him too hard. Both their faces had flushed red. She had blurted out a hasty apology before rushing off. He’s awestruck all the same.

The next time that he runs into her he manages to ask her name. She offers it fleetingly, without a surname. Iduna was an orphan, that much was easy to establish—so was he for that matter. Despite the rhetoric that marrying someone for an alliance would be better for Arendelle as a whole, he already knows that it wasn’t for him.

Agnarr would be out in the town and see her or she would be in the castle for some reason or another and see him. Her presence had been a welcome distraction and eventually a comforting presence. At a certain point, it had ceased to be an unconscious coupling and started to become something that they both looked forward to and actively worked to make happen.

“What are you reading?” A voice calls from the tree above him. His combat trainer would be disappointed in his lack of awareness, but he’s too happy to even acknowledge the hypothetical disappointment.

“Some new Danish author,” he responds, laughing at her strange position.

“Any good?” She calls as she adeptly flips down from the tree. He’s always been impressed with her dexterity; he was not skilled in the same way that she was. She moved in a way that was totally different from what they taught him for the battlefield and his curiosity made it easier to rationalize his long glances.

“Not my taste,” it wasn’t but Marius thought that he may enjoy it, that it may turn him off of any inclinations h had of marrying a commoner. Thus far it hadn’t stuck.

“Would I like it?”

“Do you care for forbidden romances?” He wonders aloud.

“Sometimes, it depends on the story,” she chuckles, snatching the book out of his hands. She holds the books sideways and stares at it as if it’s written in a foreign language. (He looks back on this memory with an indescribable fondness, as one of many moments that drew the two of them together)

Before his death King Runeard had appointed a regent should the worst occur, and because it had, the law was called into practice. Marius was a scholar, not a council member, so he had much less to gain if anything were to happen to him. (There was still something for him to gain should anything happen, but less was at stake) Agnarr likes the old man, enough at least, he trusted his father’s judgment. He was scheduled to start to take on responsibilities of the crown at 18 and be officially coronated at 21. It was young for any monarch, but they had little choice, his father had never remarried, never had any other heirs. (When he’s older and staring down the idea of fatherhood, he remembers this)

When he turned 21, he had felt far from ready to rule, but he had to. He knew from the moment he returned to Arendelle alone that if he showed even a moment of hesitation or weakness his enemies would devour him. And he had done this once already, there was little room for error now. 

(When he and Iduna marry, after a long contentious engagement, protested heavily by the council, he’s so happy he could burst. Later, when the honeymoon is over, he knows that he’s out of mistakes)

-

He lets the staff start to plan the funeral after the second week but doesn’t let them reveal the plans to Iduna until after she’s finished grieving. He’s willing to wait as long as necessary, but the kingdom can’t wait forever. Speculation about Elsa’s condition had run rampant over the years and her disappearance had only intensified the rumors. Iduna lasts maybe two months before the hopelessness of the situation finally swallows her and she consents to the planning of the funeral.

In preparation for the event, he commissions the royal artist to paint an official portrait for the funeral. It had been a long time since they had sat for one as a family, so the painting is more of an extrapolation than a real portrait. He examines it later after its completion; Elsa’s face was fuller, her hair a slightly darker blonde, and her gaze far less piercing. He doubts that his feelings mean anything at this point but he’s far from satisfied at the depiction. The girl in the picture doesn’t resemble Elsa enough and it does bother him. Enough that he can speak of it but more than he can articulate fully.

The funeral reminds him of his fathers if only in the way that it is far too long. Funerals were for the living, but he often wondered who was supposed to get something out of it. The minister giving the service had met Elsa exactly once, he could not recall the exact date, but he would guess that it was her baptism. It was a tradition. The service was nothing special. No one had known Elsa in life, how would they know her in death.

When he was a boy, attending his own father’s funeral, he had sobbed nonstop. It was too much for him at fifteen, of course, it would be too much for Anna at eight. He holds her for a long time, then lets the staff take her back to her quarters as soon as there’s a break in the seemingly endless stream of mourners. She didn’t need to live with this memory like he did.

They open the gates a few months after Elsa’s funeral. Arendelle is a different place now. He had several chances to learn from mistakes and failed every single one. Going to the trolls to try and help their situation had been a mistake. Magic had gotten them into this problem, using more wouldn’t get them out.

With the trolls’ intervention, Anna had almost no memories of her sister. Agnarr figured that that would make it easier for her to grieve. It does not.

Anna has no idea how to mourn Elsa. Which for a long time he thinks is for the best. He reasons that it would be easier for her to move past the trauma if there was less of it, to begin with. He’s very wrong. Anna feels too much of everything, and everything is made up of an entire kingdom mourning a dead princess. He often worried about whether growing up with an older dead sister would hurt Anna. An older, dead, perfect, sister could destroy a person without meaning to. He had grown up with a dead mother and a short but noticeable string of stillborn older siblings. They hadn’t even been able to take a breath in this world and yet his father often acted as if those would-be siblings were perfect. He had been far from it, and he could feel his father’s resentment from a mile away. The only child to survive, a veritable disappointment, nothing special. He never wanted Anna to feel like he did.

After the accident, Anna had always been easier to love. (Before the accident he had gravitated to Elsa, who was more like him) Afterward, however, It had been easier to love the child who acted more like Iduna then himself. (It would be years before he could admit that it was easier to love someone who was far from himself, both emotionally and physically)

Anna carried around the Elsa doll constantly for months after the funeral. He vaguely remembers seeing the dolls once or twice, thinking them odd toys, but appreciating the idea that his children actually liked each other. Now it was a strange crutch. Anna calls the doll Elsie but it’s the same thing. More or less.

Iduna doesn’t say anything, but he knows that the doll bothers her. They both had taken to tucking Anna in, he always noticed when she winced at the sight of the Elsie doll. The doll’s dress looked similar enough to the one that the real Elsa had been wearing the day he had ended things. He can’t say that the doll doesn’t unnerve him as well. Its button eyes had the ability to bore into him more than should be possible. A year or so after the funeral they take a family trip to Corona so Agnarr can work out some trade agreements and Iduna and Anna can enjoy the markets and the milder winters of Corona. While they’re out and about he has the staff that they brought with her ‘lose’ the doll in the shuffle. Anna screams and sobs but he had the staff pick up a myriad of stuffed animals to replace the doll and thus his daughter’s attention long before they even return home.

Anna chooses some strange bear-like creature as her new favorite toy and everyone is a little relieved.

-

Anna takes to her role as heir apparent better than expected, Anna always wanted to help people and the crown would give her the platform to do as much as she could. Elsa had been the more levelheaded of the two, but Anna would learn with time.

He spends as much time with Anna as he can, he had missed out on too much time already.

Anna was emotionally intelligent in a way that he and Elsa weren’t. Neither of them had had the skills to understand people on the same level that Anna did. Whether this was a matter of upbringing or intuition was lost on him. But he was able to love Anna more easily than Elsa. He didn’t resemble her in mind or body, but she was human like he was.

Whatever Elsa was, she was, she was far from human. Neither of them had been prepared for a child like her. Her powers hadn’t appeared right away, although the signs were there. At two or three weeks snowflakes began to form at her fingertips. There was no explanation that anyone could give them other than magic.

Both of them had wanted more than one child, after Elsa’s birth he had been terrified to even try but Iduna had eventually convinced him. Elsa, against all odds, had been born healthy. There was nothing stopping their second from being born the same. And that’s what scared him the most. When Anna had been born screaming to high heavens, he had been more relieved than he could mention, although anyone could probably see it on his face. After the first month passed without incident, he feels the rest of his anxiety melt away.

The feeling comes quickly, but the ability to articulate the feeling takes years. Iduna is slow to open up after the funeral, she does so initially for Anna’s sake, but it takes much longer for her to open up for herself. Both of them had been quiet after the funeral, he had chosen to throw himself into his work. Regardless of what was going on in his life, the kingdom still had to be run, and it was as good an excuse as any. And for a long time that stops him from feeling much of anything. Which is what he wants.

It takes a while for the guilt, the real tangible guilt, to set in. He sleeps soundly for a long time after, but no more once it sets in. He didn’t want to think about Elsa. But his mind rarely cooperated. He dreams of his eldest daughter often and, more often than not, he dreams of being in her place—of watching himself advance towards her, except in his dreams he often succeeds.

Elsa’s last days were likely spent slowly starving to death in the woods that laid just before the mist. The thought makes him sick and once it happens for the first time the feeling doesn’t stop.

On a long hard night, he takes a ride along the same path he had taken his father, the one he had taken with Elsa not too long ago. The path is still familiar, he slows his horse when he gets close to the part where it happened. There’s no sign of the struggle, there are years between them, it’s just an ordinary clearing. He doesn’t find any closure, and he’s no longer sure what he why he was looking for it there.

(Regretting it now didn’t change anything

He wants another child. Not in the way he needed his first or second, in the way that he needed to do something right. He could raise this new child right; he could love a child from beginning to end.

When they had first started to try and get pregnant, he had no preference for the sex of the child. Childbirth was a dangerous process, and if both mother and child survived it was a success. (His own birth had been a failure by these standards) He wanted a healthy child but not at the expense of his wife.

Elsa’s birth had nearly been a failure. Iduna had been fine, and that comforted him only slightly as they had rushed him out of the room so quickly, he was sure that the baby had been stillborn. He and Kai had rushed down to the kitchen and snagged the pot on the stove boiling without much thought. It was far too hot for any child, but it was something that he could control. Something that he could do. They spill about a third of the water on the way back up the stairs, it burns but it’s the least of their worries.

Bursting into the room, expecting the worst he’s greeted instead with the sight of his wife holding their _living_ firstborn. Iduna calls him over and he gets to cradle his daughter for the first time. The baby reaches up to him and he falls in love immediately. Her big blue newborn eyes stare up at him, unfocused, and he knows he would do anything for her. (That turns into a lie, but he means it at the time, he means it more than anything)

In the present, he asks his wife if she would ever be willing to have another child. It’s the only thing that he has the capacity to want. “I’m willing to wait as long as you need Iduna, I just don’t want us to look back having missed our window,” They were both getting older, and there were only so many years left before they couldn’t have children anymore. Anna was fourteen, six years displaced from Elsa’s death, growing into her role as the heir; the gap growing every day between her and any child they might have. Anna would want to be a part of her siblings’ life, she hadn’t gotten the chance last time.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to have another child,” Iduna says plainly, he knows her well enough to know that the conversation is already over.

“Please, just think about it Iduna,” he doesn’t mean to beg, but he does it all the same. This was the only way he could even try to set things right; without this, he had no chance of atoning for everything he had done.

“I have, I know that I’m done having children, Elsa and Anna were enough for me, that hasn’t changed.”

“Things have changed though,” they had, too much.

“They have, but this won’t bring Elsa back,” she says softly, trying not to spook him. He’s not easily spooked, he’s terrified, there’s a difference. Being spooked means you’ll run from danger. Being terrified has different implications. He’s afraid of what this means, of what comes next. Of his own actions and everything that comes afterward. It’s then that the tears start to flow.

As he breaks down in his wife’s arms the gravity of his mistakes hit him full force, and he can only cry harder.

-

His mother Andrea had died giving birth to him. He had grown up with that fact, as soon as he was old enough to understand his father thought it fit to tell him through the staff. His nanny had been considerably kinder in her telling but the information had been all the same. (When his father tells the story when he’s older, but not nearly old enough to know and understand the story, it’s much harder to hear) His name had been similar enough to hers that he oft-wondered whether he was named in honor of her—the older he got the more he hoped that he wasn’t. Growing up without her the women in the staff had collectively mothered him as best they could; as best they were allowed to. He rarely felt the absence of a mother acutely, it was a dull pain that would rear up on certain days but mostly stayed quiet and for that he was grateful. He would never wish that same dull pain on anyone though. (At first, he thinks that losing a child must feel parallel and opposite, but he’s wrong on that front)

His father Runeard had been a great king. Well-liked by his citizens and had great trade relations with other countries. That was what he always heard at least.

The Northuldra people who lived in their northern territories were considered dangerous due to their association with magic. They communed with the spirits that governed the elements and it had done nothing to protect them from those very spirits anger; they had been trapped in the mist along with everyone else.

Magic had always fascinated Agnarr. His nanny had told him stories of people with powers beyond his wildest imagination. When he was younger, she always avoided telling him the whole story, she would pick a point that felt enough like an ending and put him to bed. Looking back, it was easy to notice the difference, but as a boy, the ending had been more than satisfying.

When he was a little older, arguably old enough to not need a bedtime story, she would tell him the whole story. They always ended badly. A human could never control or contain that much power for long. They carried the weight of the world on their shoulders and typically paid the price. Even knowing the ending, he would want to know the story.

After the death of his father, the stories take on a new meaning. The tales were cautionary, not fanciful. They never were meant to be.

So, when his daughter is born with powers beyond his wildest imagination, he can’t help but remember those stories. It’s only belatedly that he recalls the endings. Her powers had not been her downfall, he had. He had held his newborn child in his arms and loved her so much immediately and years later had tried to kill her. He had failed as a father. He had failed her in every conceivable way.

-

Agnarr grows restless quickly. He couldn’t fix anything. His actions were his own, and the guilt that came along with it was his alone to bear. The nights when he can’t sleep, he rifles through the library looking for any kind of information of Elsa’s powers. During this, he picks up the right book and finds the room that his father had kept hidden.

There was a secret room in the library that his father had apparently used to develop the dam that he gifted to the Northuldra. The books entombed in there detailed the same stories that his nanny had told him—the same message reverberates throughout. Humans with magic always resulted in a tragic end. There was nothing on the origin of the powers themselves.

_Why had Elsa been born with those powers?_

Eventually, he’s done with his research, there were no answers there. The closest thing to an answer were Northuldra legends about a mythic place call Ahtohallen. He sets his sights on it and he knows that he would find his answers there or not at all.

“What is this trip about Agnarr?” Iduna asks him on the eve of his departure. She wouldn’t stop him, she just wanted to know why. 

“I told you already, I have to work on a trade agreement with the Alna Kingdom,”

“Try again, the Alna Kingdom isn’t nearly as far north as your navigation plans, and if this was a trading voyage you wouldn’t be taking such a small ship.”

“It’s something I have to do; I’ve made so many mistakes in my life and this is my chance to try and make things right.”

“Promise me that you’ll try and come back safe.”

“I will,” it was the only promise he could keep. He had no idea what was ahead of him on his journey, but if possible, he would try and return to his family. Iduna doesn’t agree with his reasoning or his voyage but says no more about his trip. This was something that he needed to do.

Agnarr says goodbye to Iduna and Anna in the morning. He plans to be back in a week or two, although some part of him knows that he won’t be back. He and his bare-bones crew load up the ship and journey north, past any viable trade posts, and keep sailing until a storm descends just as they’re nearing their destination. He knew that there was a chance that the mist would extend further north. They were hitting a wall, both literally and metaphorically.

As the waves crash over the side of the ship Agnarr heads below deck to think. He stands at the captain’s desk and looks over the maps where he had marked their course, they were so close, only a little further and he would have the answers he had sought for years. But they would get no closer.

The answers that he had wanted more than anything wouldn’t have changed anything. He had already made an attempt on his child’s life. Only a coward would leave their child alone in the woods, killing her would have been a merciful thing to do, but he couldn’t even do that. Elsa likely spent her final days wasting away, wondering why her father had chosen to abandon her. He feels his own cowardice so potently it makes his chest threaten to break—the hull of the ship breaks along with it. He hates himself more than he thought possible as the ship fills with water.

As the water fills his lungs Agnarr sends one final prayer to whoever may be listening; asking, above all else, for Elsa to find it in herself to forgive him. Though if he were in her place, he knows that he wouldn’t be able to do the same.


	5. Falling Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa works towards finding her place in the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out longer than initially intended so I hope y'all like it.

Ever since she revealed her powers to Honeymaren, Elsa had started to let her come along to her training sessions. She didn’t come every time, but Elsa grew to love the times that they spent together. 

“Okay, we know that you can make it snow and hail, what about freezing rain? Or is that too close to water?” Honeymaren liked to pose hypotheticals, she had an endless curiosity for Elsa and her powers. When Elsa visited Honeymaren’s combat classes, which was not nearly as often but very entertaining she had less to say. (Though the older she got the more she got distracted by Honeymaren in general, still, she had more or less nothing to say)

“I don’t know, only one way to find out,” She appreciated the suggestions though, Honeymaren was creative in a different way than she was, and it gave her a lot of practice with her powers. Elsa raises her hands to try and call freezing rain. Her powers don’t protest but seem to complain. She thinks about the wettest snow she can and tries to blur the lines between rain and snow. Before she can get too far the wind picks up faster than should be possible.

Her feet are off the ground and Honeymaren is only a blip as the ground falls away to a small whirlwind. She whips around for long moments trying to get her bearings before she realizes that she would never get he bearings. She finds the ground by shooting ice at what she assumes is the sky and she lands hard on her back with the tornado still closing in. Remembering a move that Honeymaren had shown her she rebounds on her feet and throws out her hands and forces out as much ice as she can.

It’s hard to breathe, but not impossible. Her powers seem to rile at this challenge. She shoots ice out indiscriminately at the cyclone that engulfs her. Wind, no matter how volatile and strange, still had moisture. The wind and ice fold together and figures run along the inside of the tornado. A girl and a boy seem to live an entire story in a matter of seconds and Elsa is struck with a strange feeling of nostalgia. The wind itself freezes in place. The images are frozen into the sides of the ice cylinder and Elsa tries to examine them closer but the ice shatters when she moves to touch it.

She melts the rest of the ice to see Honeymaren looking somewhere between awestruck and confused. Whatever the look means she feels it in her very soul. She sags down in relief and the other girl soon joins her on the ground. “What was that?” Elsa says incredulously, picking leaves out of her hair as some way of alleviating her nerves. The wind had picked her up like she was a ragdoll in seconds and disappeared almost just as quickly. Her powers were already strange enough, but _this_ was new.

“That was Gale, the wind spirit,” Honeymaren pulls Elsa’s hair out of the braid to get the leaves out easier, running her fingers through the thick locks appreciatively. “Years ago, before the mist came, they used to play with the people of our tribe, but we haven’t seen them much since. It’s strange that they were so aggressive though, normally the meanest thing they’ll do is play tricks on people.”

“If that was a trick, I’d love to know what they were trying to do,” Elsa hisses as Honeymaren pulls a bur out of her hair.

“I don’t know, it’s been so long since the spirits interacted with us it’s hard to tell.”

“There are more?”

“There are four spirits that our people commune with or used to commune with: Water, Earth, Fire, and Air, and legend has it that there is a fifth spirit that will help us reconnect with the spirits of the forest.”

“How do you know that the fifth spirit is real?”

“We don’t, but I think that they exist.”

“Why?”

“I like the idea that one day our people will be able to communicate with the spirits in a more meaningful way then we can now.” Elsa’s hair has long been free of debris, Honeymaren was just playing now, she loved Elsa’s hair.

“If they do exist, then why haven’t they helped us leave the forest?” She had gone back to the mist once or twice alone; her powers hadn’t lashed out like they did the first time, but they hadn’t reacted in any meaningful way. She was still as stuck as everyone else.

“Only Ahtohallen knows,” Honeymaren says cryptically, holding back giggles at the indignant face Elsa makes.

“You sound just like Yelena,” Honeymaren gives her hair a hard tug in response, Elsa lets out a yelp and freezes Maren’s hat in retaliation.

“Oh, come on! Whenever you do that the fur feels weird for weeks!”

“Don’t pull, just braid it,” Elsa snaps. Honeymaren snorts in response and starts to braid.

When Elsa meditates alone the next time, she calls the Wind spirit out of sheer curiosity. Gale seems to indulge her as she feels the faintest of breezes flow through her hair. More leaves tangle in her hair than should be possible in the few seconds the wind blows. She lets out a small flurry and Gale swirls the snow into a small tornado in the palm of her hand before spiriting the snow off deeper into the woods.

She’d like to think that that was as good as a truce.

-

Elsa wanted to have some control over her powers before showing Honeymaren her powers for the first time. Sometime between freezing the ground to stop a fight and burning her gloves her powers had begun to actually listen to her. They were still tied to her emotions but getting upset didn’t cause the same devastation that it used to. She didn’t hate herself, she didn’t hate her powers, and that must have made a difference.

Honeymaren’s reaction had been overwhelmingly positive. It was almost overwhelming. She doesn’t cry at that moment, but she almost wanted to. To have someone look at her and her powers with something other than contempt or fear was immensely freeing.

(A part of her can’t help but remember the way that Anna used to look at her and she misses her sister for the first time in forever and more than she still thought possible)

Ryder was the next natural person to tell. He was Honeymaren’s brother and she already lived with him. Still, Elsa waits a decent chunk of time before deciding to tell Ryder. She’s been in the woods for more than three years, Honeymaren had known for more than a year herself. She’d told Honeymaren first because she trusted her. She trusted Ryder long before she decided to tell him but the larger problem with telling Ryder was that he could not keep a secret for the life of him.

Yelena had made the mistake of telling the whole household that Elsa was from Arendelle and the whole tribe knew within the week. She had wanted to wait to tell the rest of the tribe, but the word was already out. It was an important lesson for all of them. And Elsa now knew that she had to be careful with her timing when she finally told Ryder. Telling him would mean that everyone would know, and she would have no choice but to live with whatever the repercussions were.

Her powers had been a point of contention for her family. They had hurt her sister and slowly eroded any relationship she could have had with either of her parents. Her father had slowly grown to hate her and everything that her powers stood for. She hadn’t seen her sister in over two years when she first came to the woods. And her mother had allowed this to go on. She never wanted to feel anything like that again. But the forest was different from the castle.

Elsa was in a good place both emotionally and with her powers and she was willing to live with the consequences of people knowing about who and what she was. Yelena and Honeymaren were the only people that she consciously consented to knowing her powers and they both had accepted her, that was more than she had had in a long time. She was willing to be loved or hated or anything in between—what mattered was that she was willing to be known.

She shows Ryder her powers with the knowledge that he would show the ice reindeer to all of the other village children and that would be that. In the days that immediately follow she’s bombarded with the requests of children who want to know whether Ryder was lying. (Which is ridiculous because, above all, Ryder is honest) She obliges them anyways, no longer willing to hide who she is.

Elsa watches each and every one of their looks of apprehension melt away into wonder as the toy or figure forms in her hands. Honeymaren makes the stragglers leave as she senses the fatigue that starts to plague Elsa. They’re back the next day but none of them are filled with the same fear that she assumed that they would be and that makes her feel warm in a way that she thought was lost. (She doesn’t say this to anyone, but the feeling reminds her of playing in the snow with Anna. Of caring for another in the way that she would do anything to protect them. She can’t say she would do this for every child, but she would certainly do it for Honeymaren and Ryder)

The parents of the children that visited her likely knew of her powers but most thought that their children were simply being fanciful. (They would soon learn that their children were being serious as they started to return home with their own ice sculptures and toys but that wasn’t Elsa’s problem)

Yelena never stops her from revealing her powers, stating simply, “I told you already, you need to make your own path, if this is part of it then I have no problem with it.”

“…But!”

“Why did you choose to tell everyone, Elsa?”

Elsa pauses for a long time, it was shorter than she often paused but still far too long for a normal conversation, “I didn’t want to hide who I was anymore, I wanted people to know who I was. What I am.”

“That was all I wanted,” Yelena smiles in a less than chagrined way and says no more. Elsa can only stare as the old woman walks away.

Elsa often wondered whether Yelena approved of her actions, but in the end, it never seemed to matter. (Validation or importance or any form of acknowledgment from her father had been the thing that she had sought for years with no results, with no hope of a result. Now that it didn’t matter it was almost overwhelming) The capacity and trust to make her own decisions was new, and often lost on her, but she made the decision to tell others of her powers and that was considered enough. She struggled to consider it enough for herself.

-

Elsa knew that many of the tribesmen didn’t trust her. They had warmed up to her slowly over the years, but they still were far from her biggest fans. The children in the tribe, close to her age or not had accepted her quickly enough. She still struggled to connect with others, but she had learned all the games that they had taught her. Although Honeymaren or Ryder often had to cajole her into joining in.

“I don’t feel like playing hide and seek,” somedays it wasn’t one thing or another, she just doesn’t feel like doing anything.

“We could have a snowball fight, is that more your speed?” Ryder pesters her for snow often, he and his buddies loved to play in her snow, especially in the hotter summer months.

“I’ll make the snow, but I don’t feel like playing right now.” Ryder perks up at this but Honeymaren doesn’t.

“If you don’t want to have a snowball fight, we could make snow angels?” Honeymaren asks and Elsa nods in the affirmative as Ryder and his friends start to build forts for their snowball fights. “You should say more if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I just didn’t feel like playing.”

“You just seem uncomfortable is all.”

“I don’t know, sometimes I just don’t want to be with others.”

“That’s okay,” and Honeymaren doesn’t really know what else to say, she wants to say more, to say something substantial, but she can’t. “Do you want to build a snowman?”

Her words send Elsa to a time long ago but not very. Elsa always avoided making snowmen, she wouldn’t stop anyone else from making them, but she would never partake. Snowmen only made her think of Anna and Anna made her think of nothing but the accident. She pauses for far too long and is pulled out of her reverie by Honeymaren grabbing her hand.

“We don’t have to do that if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’d rather make snow angels; I don’t like snowmen.”

“Okay, and whenever you’re ready to tell me why I’ll listen.”

Elsa cracks a smile that’s too big for her face, tension seeming to leave her body immediately, “Okay,” she says as she pushes Honeymaren back in the newly formed snowbank. The other girl grabs Elsa’s hands and pulls her down with her. She lands unceremoniously on top of her. Elsa scrambles off her as quickly as she can. They both look away from each other and miss the other turning red. “Snow angels?”

“Snow angels,” Honeymaren laughs as she catches Elsa trying to cool her face down with some ice in her hair. “You can call me Maren you know?” Since they were talking already Maren decides to say something from her prone position half-buried in the snowbank.

“I do?” Elsa looks surprised at the statement as if she had never even let the thought cross her mind.

“You always call me Honeymaren, you’re allowed to call me Maren—you’re my friend and I like you,” Honeymaren feels her face flush redder than it had not even two minutes earlier. 

“Okay,” Elsa notices her red face and giggles. Honeymaren feels herself flush even redder.

“Good,” Maren starts to move her arms up and down for her angel.

The parents of the other kids were alive to remember the betrayal of the Arendellian people. She knew this long before some of the kids’ parents wouldn’t let them play with her; but their actions only further her suspicion. She can’t fault them in this, even if she, personally, had nothing to do with it. (Her parentage, her linage, made her guiltier than she’s willing to tell. She’s confident enough to tell others of her powers but not where she came from, that would be too much, even if it wasn’t too soon)

The winter of her fifteenth year is harsher than she’s ever seen, not that she feels any of the cold. Winters in the forest are always harsh, but a blizzard is something else entirely. The blizzard last for over a week, and that’s bad enough and it’s another week after that that their supplies start to run out.

Normally, their tribe would stock for months on end in order to prepare for harsh winters such as these, but the fire spirit had other ideas. Elsa had only met the fire spirit in passing. Watching it burn portions of the forest to the ground hadn’t brought either of them closer together. Much of their winter stockpile had gone up in flames weeks before winter even set in. Elsa had been in the woods when the smoke had started to rise above the trees. Elsa had rushed to the scene and helped douse the flames; freezing as much as she could if only to stop the fire from spreading. (She had thought for a long short moment of chasing the fire spirit to make it pay, but there were other things at hand) Had she not they would have lost the entire supply. Although, even with her intervention they had lost almost everything. They had prayed for a mild winter and been rewarded with a blizzard intent on testing their fortitude. (Elsa remembers that word from one of her history books; it was used in the context of military forces enduring something or someone horrible or hard with little hope of any returns—for a long time she thought them foolish, but later realized that she was no different, she never had been)

Had the storm not set in, their supplies could have been supplemented by fresh fish, elk, and the occasional Reindeer. But it had and her people were facing starvation. 

Elsa is the one to suggest it, and a first Yelena refuses to let her out in the storm. _She was only a child; it was unfair and unethical to make her go out in the storm._ But she wasn’t a child, and she hadn’t been for a long time—and she wasn’t being offered as a tribute, she was offering.

It’s only after the last of the food and firewood starts to run out that Yelena even starts to consider it. But the rest of the council is quicker on the upswing. The council okays her request to leave quickly, Yelena insists that they act for the greater needs of the tribe, but Elsa can wager a guess that they are not too concerned about her wellbeing. Which is fine, this isn’t about them.

Yelena acquiesces soon after the council does, there was little choice in the matter, but Elsa enjoys the idea of approval; even if it was by a forced hand. “At the first sign of the storm getting worse, you head straight back, you hear me?” Yelena is stern in this warning as she makes Elsa bundle up in unnecessary layers. The clothing is restrictive, but it stops Yelena from worrying so much so Elsa accepts it as best she can. She had never felt the cold in the way that everyone else had and that hadn’t changed even as the temperatures dropped further than humanly bearable.

“Yes ma’am,” she’s quick to agree, at this point, she’s willing to do anything to help, and if that comes with stipulations, then so be it.

Elsa goes out every day, usually, whenever the blizzard has died down, even a little bit, she finds firewood, and though she doesn’t have the stomach for it, freezes rabbits or whatever other animals she can find to bring back to the village. Even with a pack, it takes more than a few trips.

Blizzards never used to last this long, it was only after the betrayal of the Arendelle people and the subsequent anger of the spirits had the weather changed for the worse. They were the people of the sun and none of them had seen the sun in over a decade. Winters were longer, springs less fruitful, autumns’ less serene, and summers without the real sun.

Elsa went out every day without fail and would bring back something for the village to subsist on. The girl knew enough about the blizzard patterns to predict the best times of day to go out and return safely in. Over the years the girl had learned the ways of their tribe. Yelena still wasn’t sure _what_ the girl was exactly, but the cold didn’t affect her. She looked and acted human, she aged and grew the same as Ryder and Honeymaren did; but her body and her powers were something otherworldly, but she was theirs all the same.

Elsa had left camp later than her normal time; the storm had been especially vicious that day and there was only a small window for her to venture out at all. Yelena wanted to insist that she stay inside but Elsa insisted that she would be fine, and the village _needed_ the supplies, so she relented.

Elsa remembers seeing a small blip of familiar flames buried in one of the snowbanks ahead of her. It doesn’t seem important and it shouldn’t be, but she finds herself heading towards it.

“Bruni? Is that you?” The flames flare up in response. She quickens her pace and wades through the snow to the only source of light. She reaches her hands into the small pit that Bruni has burned for himself and pulls out the small salamander. He flares up, turning into a small ball of fire, and Elsa quickly coats her hands in ice to avoid a burn. “Stop that or I’ll put you back in the snow,” she warns the lizard. Bruni’s eye’s narrow as he hops up and down aggressively trying to melt her ice gloves. She whips up an ice sphere around him like a snow globe and he’s placated for only a moment before shooting a particularly large ball of fire at her face, she dodges but it manages to singe her bangs. “If you’re going to act like that, I’ll freeze you so solid so no one can find you until spring. You’ll be a salamander-sicle for so long that you’ll forget how to breathe fire.” Elsa thinks that its at least a little ridiculous that she’s arguing with the literal embodiment of fire in the form of a salamander in a snowstorm.

Bruni turns off his flames at that and stops trying to burn her hands. Looking less much less threatening than he did previously. He looks up at her apologetically, or as apologetic as a salamander can.

“What are you doing out here? I thought the spirits had protections against storms?” She laughs at her own joke and Bruni licks his eyes in response. “If you promise to be good, I’ll take you back with me, I think everyone else wouldn’t mind a fire that won’t go out.” Bruni jumps up and down before leaping into her coat pocket.

Elsa manages to catch a few more rabbits and squirrels before deciding to turn back. The storm had gotten much worse during her conversation with Bruni and it long past time to turn back. She doesn’t even really remember how it happens. One moment she’s following the markers that she left to lead her back to the village the next she’s sprawled out on the ground, her ankle trapped beneath a root that she hadn’t seen under the fresh snowfall.

Her ankle is sprained or broken, but she’s not a doctor. Either way, she’s not going anywhere. Bruni curls into her chest as some kind of comfort but his warmth doesn’t help her free her ankle. She makes a saw out of ice to try and get her ankle out from under the root. She makes some headway in freeing her ankle but once she tries to stand on it, she falls back into a snowbank. The snow doesn’t stop falling and Elsa falls asleep easily. She’s not sure how long she was asleep but when she wakes, she’s completely covered in the freshly fallen snow. She freezes a shelter to protect her from drowning in snow.

Elsa had made a cast out of ice, but the snow was still too deep for her to traverse safely with a bad ankle. She had tried to stop this snow in its entirety before, during the first week or so of the blizzard she had tried to stop any part of it to no avail. Those days were different from the days where her powers wouldn’t listen to her—they listened to her; this was just something that they couldn’t stop, not alone at least.

She calls Gale to see if they would stop the wind as she raises her hands to try and stop the snow. Bruni curls into her breast pocket and literally warms her heart. It’s only then that wind dies down and the snow stops.

“Thank you,” she calls out, hoping that Gale is listening, and Bruni knows that she’s talking to him too.

The day that Elsa doesn’t come back is the day that the blizzard intensifies. She’s sure that Elsa’s okay, but she can’t help but worry. The storm stops suddenly and doesn’t restart. When the blizzard finally ends a day, or two later Yelena sends scouts out immediately to look for Elsa. They find her, fast asleep, over two kilometers away from camp, hungry and now featuring a broken ankle but perfectly healthy. Yelena still makes her stay in bed for two weeks afterwards to make sure she won’t retroactively die of exposure. Elsa pouts and Honeymaren finds it hilarious. Bruni is nice enough to keep her company while she heals up. He’s nicer than any of the villagers had seen him before. Lighting fires that last longer without fuel for people’s goahtis’ without trying to also burn down their homes. 

Once she’s out of the woods, both literally and figuratively Yelena finds it apropos to scold her. “You must know how foolish you were acting.”

“I don’t,” Elsa is indignant, Yelena is unused to her being so confrontational. Elsa had never seemed to grow out of the quiet phase that they had found her in, at some point she had though. 

“You may think that you’re invincible but you’re still human, your ankle still hasn’t healed.”

“This is my home too, I just wanted to do something to help.”

“That may be true, but you’re still a child, it wasn’t your responsibility alone. And in the future, I don’t want you acting alone, you have allies here whether you think so or not,” Yelena moves to leave the goahti before saying, “You aren’t alone, never think that.”

Elsa likes the sentiment, even if she already knew that there were things that she would need to do alone.

-

Before the age of sixteen, there was a ritual that all Northuldra people had to complete to be fully accepted as adults in the tribe. They would be sent out to the woods to make their own shelter and then wait for the spirits to call them to their purpose. Honeymaren had gone a few months earlier and seen visions of the fire spirit—her bold spirit was meant to lead their tribe in the future. Elsa had been proud of her when she returned to the village. Maren had wanted to take her trial in autumn rather than the fickle months of late winter; the elders had quickly acquiesced; it was safer and many a child picked a date that would help rather than hinder them. The only caveat was that the ritual had to be completed before the individual turned sixteen. Elsa was two weeks away from that deadline.

(Initially, it had taken Elsa a long time to tell others about her birthday. She had no ill memories of the date, but it felt strange to celebrate it after years of it barely mattering. The first time her birthday comes around she says nothing about it to anyone and it passes with nary a thought. That being said it was harder to keep track of day in the forest. There were no stars to accurately measure the movement of the world—and although there was a difference between days and night it was easy for it to days to blur together. The only reason she knows for sure that her birthday passes is that the Northuldra have a winter solstice festival. Maren is livid when she finds out that they missed her birthday, Ryder even more so once she tells him)

The elders had debated for a long time whether or not Elsa should even be eligible to take the test. They had deliberated for months, dragging the date closer and closer to her actual birthday. Eventually, they relented, between Yelena’s testimony and her own actions during the blizzard, she was Northuldra enough to take the test. If she passed then she would be accepted fully, and if she failed then her place would be much less certain. People did not fail their tests, they received messages that they didn’t want but they did not fail. Elsa knew that there was more than a chance that she could fail. Elsa was not excited by her odds. There was too much to lose should she fail.

Visions of the fire spirit, depending on its content, often meant that one was destined to be a warrior or a leader in the tribe; earth visions denoted a life best spent with the reindeer or farming; visions of the wind spirit often desired a nomadic life of discovery, visions of it were much rarer now; the water spirit visions were more fluid, many learned the ways of the spirits, others were taught to heal, much like the element there were many different ways the river could run. A vision was not a destiny, but many people found solace in the idea that the spirits cared enough to guide them. Especially given the mixed animosity and apathy that they had shown them since the mist first appeared.

Many other teens that she had watched leave the village for their own journeys had hoped for one vision over the other—Elsa just hoped to return with a vision of her own at all. She had a week to return to the village or her journey would be a failure even if she had a vision.

With all of that in mind, she sets out with a weeks’ worth of food and a hunting knife.

She could just as easily make the required shelter out of ice but in accordance with traditions, she spends the first day building a rough structure. She saved enough food for the journey back and began her fast. Honeymaren had explained how her own vision had appeared a few days into her fast. The hunger was supposed to clear the mind and make it more receptive to the advice of the spirits. Most tribe members were back within a week.

Elsa feels the time slip by all too fast. She mediates until she’s in a near trance-like state. Eventually, she dreams of nothing but ice; long hallways of ice that stretched on and on, but nothing of the fire, water, earth, or air that would ensure her a place in the tribe.

After waiting for as long as she can she has no choice but to return to the village. She couldn’t wait any longer if she wanted to get back to the village before her birthday. On the way back she thinks of what to say to the tribe. Water was the closest thing to the visions she did receive, they didn’t match, but it was close enough. She wasn’t moral enough to not lie. She had nowhere else to go, so she would do whatever it took to stay.

The elders accepted her story without any fuss. Elsa feels a little guilty about lying, but not enough to not proceed. She’s completed the ceremony and most of the elders stop giving her long suspicious looks.

Elsa is nervous, though she tries not to be, for weeks afterwards. She realizes that she’s gotten quite a bit of experience lying throughout her years in isolation. She lied to both of her parents constantly during isolation—that she was fine, that she loved living alone, that she didn’t mind never seeing Anna. Her mother had believed her, her father likely hadn’t, but didn’t care. Either way, she considered herself an experienced liar. All of that being said she was still uneasy about lying about such a big issue. She thinks that she’s been hiding it pretty well until Maren drags her into their goahti to talk.

“You’ve been off this whole time, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Maren waits till they’re alone to raise the question, waits is the wrong word, she drags Elsa into someplace they can have a real conversation, she had managed to corner Elsa in their goahti. Elsa had been back for over a week when she’s finally able to bring up her apprehensions. She had arrived back in the village the night before the solstice, nervous, but having had visions of the water spirit. (Even if Maren thinks that she may be lying, water visions are a good match for fire visions, which she takes some comfort in)

“Nothing, I’m just tired and hungry,” Elsa dismisses her with a wave of her hands, trying to move past her to leave the conversation. Maren blocks her effort.

“I know that something’s wrong, please Elsa just tell me, everything’s going to be fine,” Maren grabs her hands to try and calm the other girl down. She feels the temperature drop as Elsa refuses to meet her eyes.

“The spirits never spoke to me, they know that I don’t belong here,” Elsa mumbles out, but Maren still catches the words.

“Did you see anything at all?”

“My visions were of nothing but ice, the spirits know that I don’t have a place in the tribe.”

“You had a vision though, that must mean something,” Honeymaren tries to reassure her. The nerves of the other girl manifesting in the temperature in the goahti being lower than that outside. Elsa had already met and befriended some of the spirits, there had to be something there.

“Even if I had a vision, my powers outweighed whatever might have been there,” Elsa is terrified, Maren realizes then; Elsa had been terrified since she came to the forest. Not all at once, not all the time, but she had been terrified of not belonging from the beginning. Whatever she had left in Arendelle had not been anything worth staying for.

“It doesn’t matter! You belong here and the spirits not talking to you doesn’t mean anything!” Honeymaren says.

“It must mean something! Everyone in the village has had a vision! Why can’t I?” Elsa yells back, the fear in her voice outweighing whatever anger should have been there. The spirits had spoken to her, but never in the way that would mean anything.

“It doesn’t have to! People don’t listen to their visions all the time, you don’t have to either!” 

Elsa absorbs none of this because it doesn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things; she had known that visions weren’t destiny, but the lack thereof was worse than having a destiny—it was an announcement that no one cared about her—that no one cared enough to send her a sign. And that felt worse than anything else, so she might as well tell whatever other secrets she still has left. “My father tried to kill me when he abandoned me, I wandered further into the forest and eventually made my way through the mist.” The first half is what matters, the other part is just narrative. She stills wants Maren to know it though.

“That isn’t your fault, and it has nothing to do with this! The spirits led you here, of course, you belong here! Your father was a liar and a monster, that doesn’t mean that you are!”

“I am part of the Arendellian royal family, all of this is my fault, the mist, the sprits hating us, everything,” that fact had weighed on her since the day she was born. In the middle, she had waned on its importance but now it was important for others to know.

“What?” Maren has nothing to say, still processing what she’s just told her.

“I am a princess of Arendelle, originally first in line to the throne.” And, she guessed that the spirits had chosen to not speak to her because of this fact. Her family’s crimes had been long and varied and so much worse once she’d learned of the history between Arendelle and the Northuldra.

“Elsa, all of this happened before you were born, none of this was your fault, and even if your family did those things that doesn’t mean that you did those things.”

“It means something, the spirits didn’t tell me anything, the vision that I did get doesn’t mean anything, that means that I mean nothing!” That was her greatest fear, that her father had been right. He had been right far too often in her life and she didn’t want to give him any more ammunition than he already had, even if she would likely never see him again. 

“The spirits know you; they would never omit you so callously,” Honeymaren is still reeling, Elsa can tell that much, but she’s trying to be there for her and that means more. Elsa lets herself break down then, she lets Maren hold her then.

She and Honeymaren decide together to tell Yelena of what happened. Yelena is quiet at the revelation and doesn’t admonish them as they expected. She’s surprised, they can tell that much, but she doesn’t give too much time to her surprise, instead saying “Your visions meant something, regardless of whether the spirits spoke to you, they mean something.”

Elsa hears the unspoken _you mean something_ this time, she hadn’t before, she hadn’t for a long time, but she did this time. Elsa isn’t at peace, far from it, but she likes whoever she is now. More than she thought possible back when she was eleven. The mere idea of not hating herself had seemed impossible but it had still happened.

-

Elsa had run into the soldiers a handful of times when she meditated alone in the forest. Even the ones that she didn’t remember from their brief encounter seemed to know about her, the word must have spread. Every soldier that knew of her powers steered clear of her; she was sure of that.

Mattias was the unequivocal leader of whatever remained of the Arendellian soldiers. Elsa can’t say that she trusted him enough or at all, but some part of her likes him just because he’s nice enough. Not kind but nice enough. She knows that he has no idea who or what she is and what her life has been like, and maybe that’s why she likes him. He sticks around when he runs into her for the first time, he’s less afraid of her than the rest of his company and that’s something at least.

She and Mattias had unintentionally worked out a routine of meeting around once a month. It had started a few months after she had come to the forest and continued to the present. They walked the same paths around the same times and if they happened to meet up it was sheer coincidence. They don’t speak of much, but Elsa enjoys knowing someone who knew Arendelle the way that she did—maybe not the way she did, because she didn’t know Arendelle that well to begin with, but not enough had changed in Arendelle in two decades to make that much of a difference. They were from the same place. (It meant something, but not what she thought it did, her life back then had been full of moments like that)

“Did you know of an Agnarr when you lived in Arendelle?” Mattias asks one day, they’ve been running into one another for years now, she’s not gone through her trials yet but she’s close; she’s shocked by the idea of someone knowing her father, even if he was the king. The idea that her father had lived her entire life outside of hers was extraneous. She doesn’t let the shock show on her face.

“The king? I’d heard of him before but never met him,” Elsa, of course, knew her own father, not well, but knew him all the same. “Why? Did you know him?”

“Yes, I did, very well, I was his personal guard back before all of this started.”

“Is that why you’re still here?” Elsa isn’t curious, no matter how much she wants to be. She knew almost nothing about her father, very people did, but as his child, it seemed especially egregious. The shorthand was that she wanted to know, no matter how much it hurt or didn’t.

“Yes, the life of the crown prince was of unimaginable importance, I was supposed to protect him, and I was never sure that I did,” he glances at her like he knows her, or thinks he knows her, and it’s unnerving, “You remind me of him sometimes.”

“When?” It had been a long time since she had thought of her father without animosity. Elsa had not stopped hating her father, she wasn’t even sure that she hated him at all, but thoughts of him didn’t consume her the way they used to. She had never known him well, it was one thing to be told by your parents that you resembled one or the other, it was another to be told by someone unrelated. She couldn’t tell if this would be more or less genuine than the alternative but either way, she is very curious in spite of herself.

“When you’re thinking really hard about something, you get the same look on your face.” Her mother had said something similar, a long time ago. She didn’t think of her family often, she tried not at least. It was hard to keep moving forward if you kept getting stuck in the past and she had no choice at this point.

“That’s interesting,” she says it with a long overture of disinterest. It had to be the same as dislike. Elsa had long moments where all she can’t stop thinking about her family, they drag her down for longer than she can admit to anyone. Mattias smiles at her apparent disinterest, which she can’t even start to understand.

Despite her apprehension, she keeps going back to meet Mattias. She wanted to know more about her father because if they were similar, she would want to know whatever she could. That was what she told herself at least. She likes Mattias more than she thought she would. Everyone associated with her father wasn’t automatically poisoned against her. She likes the perspective.

“Did Halima ever get married?”

“Who?”

“She worked at Hudson’s Hearth back when I still lived in Arendelle, she’s probably about my age,” Mattias gestures a height a little shorter than his own; at this point Elsa is in the middle of her growth spurt, shooting up rapidly, already taller than Yelena; which wasn’t an accomplishment because the older woman wasn’t that tall to begin with but still. She had never been allowed outside of the castle walls much, she would never know the names of the people that would have been her citizens.

“I can’t say that I know her,” that was definitely true, Elsa knew almost no one.

“I always wondered whether she married,” Mattias has this dreamy look in his eyes that Elsa had mainly seen in Anna’s eyes when she talked about far off fake princes. She thinks that the two would have gotten along.

“Were you in love with her?” Elsa doesn’t understand the feeling, she had never felt something like that before. She had felt her face flush before but never associated it with love.

Mattias flushes at the accusation, he lets some words stumble out of his mouth but nothing coherent crosses the threshold. Elsa can’t help but laugh at that.

Another meeting, much later Mattias is finally able to say what has been bouncing around in his head since the first or second time that he met her.

“You’re Agnarr’s daughter, aren’t you?” He doesn’t accuse, he has nothing to say were he actually wrong, but some part of him knows that she was related to the child that he considered his own for longer than he would admit.

“How did you know?” She doesn’t accuse, which only furthers his suspicions.

“I told you, you remind me of him.”

“And that was enough?”

“Yes, Agnarr was like a son to me, I’d like to think that I knew him well.”

“My father and I didn’t have a good relationship,” Elsa is almost sixteen at this point, she’s years removed from whatever her father tried to do to her, but it was and likely always would be a sore subject. She had never brought it up to Yelena, she had asked in the beginning, but Elsa had never offered, and eventually, she had stopped asking altogether. During those first few months, those actions had only endeared her to Elsa more. Now, it had begun to border on too long to tell anyone.

“I gathered, or you wouldn’t be here,” he’s kinder than she’s seen him before. And maybe that’s only because he knows who she is now, but it must mean something.

“I suppose that’s true.” It was, that was why she tried to avoid talking about her father.

“You’re his daughter all the same.”

“People always said that I looked more like my mother,” that was true too, the last memory she has of her mother now looked far too much like the reflection she saw in too still water. Her near-white hair was the main thing that separated them. As a child she hated the trait, it only further separated her from the rest of her family. The older she got, however, the more she started to appreciate that fact.

“I see him in you still,” he stares at her too deeply, gazing into her soul; seeing a part of her that was still there and far removed from its source. She had thought it far gone at this point, but he saw more than was there.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” She’s harsher than she thinks possible, which is she wants; she wants to hurt others in the way that she’s been hurt. She wants to destroy whatever false version of her father that Mattias still holds.

“He was a promising prince, and I’m sure he was a great king,” Mattias is so convinced, Elsa almost doesn’t understand the need she feels to crush whatever he still thinks of her father.

“He abandoned me in the woods, only after he tried to kill me,” She doesn’t scream, that was never something she would do—she says it so flatly that it almost sounds like it’s supposed to be a joke. It’s easier to say the second time though. She doesn’t feel guilty about it either and she shouldn’t, because, as Maren often reminded her, it wasn’t her fault. “Whatever drove my grandfather to try and conquer the Northuldra drove my father to try and kill me.”

“Why?” Mattias appeared to be able to say nothing else. She’s thankful for this because she’s not done talking.

“I am made of the same thing that he feared,” she says her revelation aloud so he can hear it too. Her father had feared whatever was inside of her as if it was something that could be separated from her being. She was as much magic as much as magic was part of her. Mattias had seen her powers before, but she decided that it was apropos to show off. Reaching out her hands, she lets her powers roam free. The autumn leaves still waiting to fall freeze into small sheets of ice and crash to the forest floor along with the gentle stream of snowflakes floating down. She remembers the castle in Arendelle surprisingly well for someone who barely left their walls. She presses her hands together and forms a miniature model of the castle, one that Mattias would surely remember. She leaves it on the ground for him to take or leave. She finds that it doesn’t matter to her if he takes it or not, she had made her point.

Elsa leaves, because there’s nothing else that needs to be said or done. She didn’t need the validation that her father was a monster; even she didn’t totally believe it. Mattias knew a different version of her father than she did, and she couldn’t change that.

She avoids him for months afterwards, when they do cross paths again it’s awkward. He doesn’t know how to talk to her with the information she gave him, and she doesn’t know how to talk to someone who knows that much about her family.

He breaks the silence of their walks eventually though, by then she’s older, she’s passed her trials, no matter how contentious, and slowly started to make her way towards adulthood. “I’m sorry,” is the only thing that he can say.

“It wasn’t your decision,” she couldn’t blame Mattias for something that he had no part in, as much as she wanted to for far too long.

“It wasn’t yours either,” the tension broken he cracks a smile.

“Touché,” she smirks in response, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Okay,” it was an unlimited request, but she likes the idea of being able to tell the entirety of her story to someone who wanted to listen, even if it was too much or too little. 

-

The first day of the new year offered an infinite number of new opportunities. Elsa was trying to be more open to the possibilities that the new year would offer her. She was an adult in the eyes of both the tribe and Arendellian law. (Were she still in Arendelle, she could wager a guess that she would be fielding suitor options, but she wasn’t there anymore which was for the best)

Being newly 18 was an experience. She had always had more freedom in the forest than she had in the castle but being an adult in the tribe she was allowed to move out. At 16 she had built her own goahti and moved into it with Maren—Maren had done most of the work, but it was still a shared living space; Elsa learned from the construction though, the next time she would know how to do it herself. 

At 18 one was also allowed to attend the various courting dances that occurred throughout the year. There were usually at least two a year, one in the winter and one in the summer. Elsa had missed the winter one by a week and a half, so the summer one was the first one open to her. It was open to Maren as well so they got to share the experience.

“So, what is this dance about?” Elsa had no idea what she was getting into, but it was far too late to stop at this point.

“It’s an opportunity to meet people that you may want to marry,” Maren knows these facts well, which is neither comforting nor disturbing.

“Don’t you already know the people that you may want to marry? The tribe isn’t that big.”

“Not always, the tribe mostly sticks together but there are smaller sections that spit off and live apart, there’s a chance that you haven’t met everyone your age yet.”

“Do you really start to think about marriage this early?” Elsa didn’t consider herself that old, not old enough to be married at least.

“Yes, you don’t have to get married right away but it’s smart to start thinking about it earlier rather than later. Going to a dance is an opportunity to meet someone you may like. Having someone ask you to dance can be a big step.”

“What does it mean if no one asks you to dance?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t have to, but it’s bad luck to not be asked the first time you attend,” upon the confusion that flits across Elsa’s face she elaborates, “Some think that not being asked means you’ll be bad luck once you intend to marry.”

“That’s pretty dumb,” Elsa had never been trained in the ways of dating or marriage, whether that was because her father already saw her lack of marriage potential, or she was too young was lost on her. She already knew, had she stayed she would have been a horrible bride to try and marry off, she takes some satisfaction in that. “People in Arendelle just courted and got married. I don’t think we had any superstitions.”

“Well, this is like courting isn’t it? You meet someone you like, and you figure it out? You didn’t have to do anything special?”

“Maybe, if you were rich or royal you could get married just for an alliance or a land agreement but if you weren’t you were free to marry whoever you wanted.” Elsa isn’t sure this is true, she had read stories of commoners marrying their beloved’s, but never someone like her having the freedom to love and marry who she wanted. “The Northuldra way sounds boring, why hinge your whole life on something in your teens?”

“It’s culture so it can’t be boring.”

“It definitely can,” Elsa snarks. “Are you afraid of not being asked to dance?” She asks it as earnestly as she can, it meant something to Maren, so it meant something to her.

“I don’t want to be the only one not asked to dance.”

“Why though? Why be afraid of that?” The words are much scarier than the delivery—Elsa was genuinely asking, not accusing her of what she feared.

“It’s bad luck. Bad marriage fortune, if you’re not asked.” Maren had no parents left to advocate for her if she wanted to marry, any partnership she made would have to be on her own merit of her own creation.

“You believe in a spirit that no one else thinks still exists, why be afraid of something that may not be true?” She was afraid of what her parents would think of her. They weren’t here anymore but their opinion still mattered. She and Ryder had lost their parents at a young age, whatever they would think of their future selves was pure speculation—it created pressure all the same. She didn’t know what her parents would think of her and her feelings. But it was too easy to think that they would think the worst of her.

The night is much livelier than she could have imagined. She had caught glimpses of it before she was of age but never seen the festival in its entirety. The summer night is warmer than expected, not unbearable, not uncomfortable, but warmer than they thought.

A few of the boys from the tribe ask Elsa to dance, but she turns them down. “You said that it was only bad luck if you weren’t asked, I was asked,” she smiles broadly not chagrined at all. Elsa is bold, and asks “Would you like to dance?” She stands in front of her and holds out her hand.

For the first time Honeymaren is truly hesitant, she knows what it would mean to accept Elsa’s hand. It would mean admitting to everything she had felt over the years. Acknowledging that even if her feelings were accepted it didn’t mean that they were always accepted. But she finds that she doesn’t care—even the phantom version of her parents would want her to be happy.

Elsa’s hands are both softer and more callous than she expects. It’s only once they’ve started dancing does Maren realize that Elsa has no idea how to lead. Or the dance that she’s trying to lead is something from Arendelle. She switches their positions and leads Elsa in a Northuldra dance instead. Elsa is disoriented for only a moment before adapting, letting herself be led in a new dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this, I went back to work recently and that has been interesting


	6. Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna tries to move forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell if this chapter was easier or harder to write, either way, most likely harder, it turned out longer than I planned. This likely could have been two separate chapters but here we are because I already outlined the story.  
> Also, side note, the comments hit 69 and I had a good laugh at that because I'm immature.

Iduna had always known that it was a possibility. Whenever her husband left, there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t come back. The last time that he had seen her husband he had been manic and distraught. Ever since Elsa disappeared Agnarr hadn’t been himself, maybe even before that.

She knew that, even if she wanted to, she couldn’t have stopped him. So, she makes him promise to try and come back, she knows he had no intention of keeping it, but he makes it all the same.

The second time waiting for news that will never come is quicker. Not easier, but the process is much quicker. Aganrr’s journey was supposed to take a week, two at most—after the second week she starts to prepare her official statement. After the third, she helps the staff plan the funeral. At the end of the month, they set the date.

The funeral is different than Elsa’s, not many people had known Elsa, so their mourning was more superficial. They were mourning her in concept but not in reality. The citizens had known Agnarr since he was a boy, they had watched him grow up and now they had to bury him.

Funerals had always seemed strange to Iduna, back in the woods they held a similar mourning period but there was much less of the fanfare that surrounded funerals here. The fanfare only served to remind her that she hadn’t told anyone of her past. She never told her husband that she had been the one to save him all those years ago and now he would never know. Elsa would never know. She needed to tell Anna.

Iduna had learned much about ruling Arendelle through Agnarr. The council kept track of most everything but as the Queen Regent, she still had duties to fulfill.

The funeral itself is quite short, it’s the wake that goes on forever. Too many foreign dignitaries shake her hand and offer well-meaning but ultimately meaningless condolences. She and Anna manage to avoid crying the entire time. She doesn’t want Anna burdened by the idea that she has to stay strong just for her sake, but Anna does it anyways. Later she discloses that she just didn’t want to cry in front of everyone again. Iduna chooses to believe her. 

She’s going through Agnarr’s things and bringing most of them to the attic. After Elsa’s death, they had slowly moved all of her things to the attic. Iduna had packed everything up herself then; this time she and Anna had packed everything up together. Packing up Agnarr’s things hadn’t been nearly as traumatic. It was still hard, but it was much easier this time around.

“Did papa every actually wear this?” Anna holds up a very formal military jacket from the back of the closet. Most of the nicer outfits were going to the archive, the less important ones were headed into storage until they finally decided to get rid of them. That point would never come for Elsa, Iduna’s sure of that.

“Once maybe, as soon as you stop growing the tailors like to be prepared,” Iduna always thought it was a waste to own clothes that you would only wear once, but it wasn’t up to her. Loving and marrying an Arendellian, a royal one at that, she had learned to make concessions.

(And she had kept making concessions because she didn’t live there anymore and there was no going back)

“I’m glad, it’s too ugly to be seen in public more than once,” Anna laughs as she chucks it into the pile headed to the attic. Iduna feels her daughter’s lightness and can’t help but laugh.

Iduna finds the chest of gloves sometime during all of this. Anna is thankfully busy thumbing though all of her father’s books. Anna was never much of a reader, but she thought that by learning what her father liked to read she could learn more about the man himself. The plan is sound, Agnarr had always been a cerebral person like Elsa—a fact that even now she struggled to understand.

(They had been so close in the beginning; they had been like-minded, and they had bonded easily and that made it easy for Elsa to commit to a childhood of duty. Elsa read earlier than most children and shocked everyone with her intellect at a young age, Agnarr had been elated. She saw fear in his eyes when Elsa’s powers first manifested, and then not again for a long time. She thought he had moved past it, but the older Elsa got the less that seemed to be true. Agnarr had been afraid of Elsa, and Elsa had been afraid of him)

The chest is innocuous enough, plain and blue like most of the dust-covered furniture. What draws her to that particular chest is the very distinct handprint on the lid. She knows it’s Agnarr’s, even if she doesn’t have any definitive proof. A single handprint on the lid and some marks on the front to indicate that it had been opened recently. She opens the chest. It was full of gloves of all sizes, all neatly lined up in pairs. The stacks are uneven, the smallest size was missing a pair, Iduna didn’t have to guess what that meant.

It all makes her sick enough already but there were gloves big enough to fit her own hand—sizes that Elsa hopefully never would have needed if they had found a solution. The fact that Agnarr had them made causes her to feel worse than she has in years.

She has the staff start a fire in the study and she burns the gloves one by one and feels lighter with every pair that goes up in flames. The delicate stitching slowly turning to nothing before her eyes. She decides to tell Anna everything the next day.

-

Anna had never thought too much about her place in the royal family, she never had a reason to. She was second in line to the throne; in the books she did read siblings always seemed to fight over the throne like it was some real prize. It was duty, it was a badge that her grandfather had worn proudly and a weight her father had slowly been crushed under. Even as a child she had seen the way her father never had time for them. He worked constantly and even when he did get a break his thoughts were often concerned with work. There was a gap, somewhere between Elsa’s disappearance and death and his own, where her father seemed to have enough time for everything. But that ended too.

She had never envied her sister for being the heir, if anything she was grateful for it. Elsa’s childhood, what she knew of it, which really wasn’t much, had been eaten up by preparing to take the throne. Anna had been allowed to play and have friends and have a childhood. She had been allowed out of the castle, not by her parent’s volition but her own, which was something.

“I need to talk to you about something,” her mother sits her down one day. She’s almost eighteen, a few years removed from her father’s death and weeks away from her coming-out ball. They had spent much of their free time in the past weeks either preparing for the ball or cleaning out her father’s things.

“About what?” Anna asks, still bouncing around the room, taking dresses out of her own closet this time. She would have a new dress for the ball, so it was time that she got rid of some of her old clothes. She always had Angelica take them to her daughters, it made a lot more sense than shoving them in the attic or throwing them in the trash. 

“Please sit down, this is important,” her mother implores, gesturing to the tea that Gerda is setting down. Neither of them will touch it but Anna thanks her anyways.

“Ok, I’m sitting, what is this all about?”

“I need to tell you something about your sister,” her mother takes a deep breath, trying to prepare herself, Anna braces herself for whatever is coming, “Your sister was special, and I don’t mean that in the way that she was smart or pretty, your sister had powers, she could control ice and snow, and when you were children, Elsa accidentally hurt you with her powers,” she reaches across the table and touches the one white streak in her hair, “This is the only reminder of it, you got really sick and we didn’t know if you were going to make it, so we took you to the trolls and they healed you by taking your memories of Elsa’s powers,” her mother says, though Anna understands nothing.

“…What?”

“Your father and I decided to not tell you, we didn’t want you to get hurt again so we separated you two. We told Elsa to stay away from you and she obeyed.”

“So, she wasn’t sick? She was just locked in that room for no reason?” Anna feels something burning beneath the surface, it’s not fire, but it might as well be.

“Elsa’s powers only grew, we didn’t know how to control them and neither did she, we thought that it would be better if fewer people knew about her powers,” as if that weren’t enough, her mother only pauses to take a breath, “That’s not all… there’s something else I’ve been keeping from you—” Her mother starts but Anna cuts her off, her rage finally built enough to boil over.

“If you didn’t tell me about Elsa what else did you not tell me!? Are you even my mother?! What else did you lie to me about?” She yells as she stands up abruptly, the chair doesn’t topple but scrapes hard against the floor, punctuation to her anger.

“Anna please,” her mother begs, rising to her feet a little more gracefully.

“No! How could you and dad lied to me for so many years, how could you have locked her in a room? What else did you tell me that wasn’t true?” Anna doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “Don’t follow me!” Anna screams out as she rushes out of the castle, she pushes past servants as one of them throws her cloak at her. She drags it along until night falls and she gives in and puts it on.

Anna starts walking in one direction and doesn’t stop until the sun started to set hours later. She passes through the castle gates and the city proper and walks further and further into the woods. Her rage cools at some point but she’s still angry. She needed answers and she didn’t trust her mother enough to get them from her.

As the sun started to set, she’s lucky and finds a small inn. _Oaken’s_ has a lovely little store and sauna. The cloak, that one of her maids had thrown at her as she unceremoniously left the castle had some gold in the pockets, it’s enough for a night’s stay and a stint in the sauna. She’s browsing the food selection for a snack when she meets him.

“Carrots,” Anna turns around to see a tall blond man covered in snow.

“What?”

“Carrots, behind you,” he reaches behind her and grabs the offending object.

“Oh,” she laughs at the realization and offers her hand out to the stranger, “Hi, I’m Anna,” she liked to think that she knew most of the population of Arendelle. Oaken rarely came down to the town proper but she still knew him and his partner and children. (It wasn’t proper to use the word husband, that was the agreement reached. In exchange for relative tolerance, they would all choose their words carefully. Anna thinks it hardly fair but, as she quickly learned, it was one of the many things that the crown had done that she didn’t agree with)

“Kristoff,” he says, trying to sound gruff, although Anna thinks the attempt lacking.

“I’ve never seen you before, where are you from?”

“Around, I spent most of my time in the mountains, harvesting ice,” he tries to pay for the carrots but finds himself short.

“Have you ever met any trolls?” That was the only clue that her mother had given her, trolls had taken her memory, they could probably give it back. Most of the people that she had asked in her rush to get out of town had responded with nothing more than confusion. Denial had to mean something.

He flushes and stammers and it’s then that all the lessons of etiquette kick in, “Trolls? Aren’t those just things from fairytales?” She finds the gold in her cloak’s pocket and hands it to Oaken in his stead. “Thanks,” he stammers out before hurrying out the door. Naturally, Anna follows him, his lack of an answer was an answer all the same. Kristoff rushing into the adjoining barn where she finds him conversing with a reindeer.

“Reindeer are better than people, Sven, don’t you think I’m right?” He strums the lute and talks to and for the reindeer beside him as if it were a person. She uses all her willpower and holds back a giggle.

“You don’t get out much, do you?” She opens the door fully, so he knows that he has an audience. He scrambles, unsure whether to hide the lute or the reindeer. He fails either way.

“Why would you ask something like that?” He’s insulted, still trying to hide the reindeer, _Sven_ , under some loose hay.

Her willpower is gone then, giggling outright, barely holding back the belly laugh that she wants to let out. “Because I already know the answer and I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Trolls, you obviously know something, just tell me and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Is this about the money, I can pay you back if you just give me a couple weeks,” he reaches into his pockets as if Anna hadn’t already seen the coins in his pockets laid bare.

“This isn’t about the money, this is actually about trolls, I know that you know something,” the emphasis on the words trolls is not lost on him, she watches him almost flinch at the word.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he crosses his arms as if that’s supposed to intimidate her.

“You don’t, but I spoke to Oaken and you owe rent for staying in the stables,” she hadn’t spoken to him directly, but Oaken had complained before about an underpaying tenant. “If you tell me what you know I may be able to solve your problem.”

Kristoff pauses for a long time, making a stupid thinking face that Anna can’t help but find cute, “I … I may know something,” he resigns, slumping down at his own weakness. This is her first real victory in negotiation, and she can’t help but celebrate—letting out a loud whoop that scares both Sven and Kristoff and pumping her fists in the air. She spins around haphazardly, knocking into bales of hay and nearly landing in Kristoff’s lap after tripping over Sven. He catches her and rights her on her feet quickly, both of them red.

“You can sleep tonight and tomorrow you will take me to the trolls,” she orders as best she can, face still flushed. Turning away and walking out of the barn before she can make a fool of herself any more than she already has.

The next morning, fresh from the sauna that Oaken had provided, Anna knocks on the door to the barn. “Kristoff! I hope you haven’t reneged on our deal!”

The door opens unceremoniously, Kristoff already dressed, and Sven hitched to a sled.  
“How could I forget? Are you ready to leave?” He throws his hat at her, “It’ll only get colder the closer we get.” Anna puts it on without argument. They set off with a similar lack of fanfare. Kristoff takes her deeper into the woods, which she should be more concerned about than she is. He probably won’t kill her; he doesn’t have it in him. Knowing him for less than 24 hours has taught her that.

“So… what do you do?” They had been riding along for a long time in complete silence, it was awkward. Anna had never enjoyed silence, even before her sister had shut her out, she had loved to fill silences with anything she could think of.

(Though, apparently, her sister hadn’t been the one to want to shut her out, that was her parent’s idea)

“I harvest ice,” he keeps his eyes on the road, engaging her in only the briefest of conversations.

“Is that a good business?”

“It changes with the seasons,” Anna laughs, although it turns out that Kristoff isn’t joking.

“You don’t talk much do you?”

“I didn’t grow up with talkative people, so I’m not used to talking this much.”

“I didn’t either, neither of my parents were that talkative and my sister stopped talking to me when I was six.”

Kristoff seems surprised by this and asks, “Why?”

“I don’t know, one day she just stopped,” Anna knew more now, not everything, but more.

“Do you talk now?”

“No, she died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he means it, and Anna likes him more for that.

“Don’t be,” she almost adds that she and her sister weren’t close, but they had been—once upon a time. Her mother had thought that appropriate to tell her that Elsa had adored her from birth. She had held her as a baby and soothed her; held her hands as a toddler as she learned to walk; and made snowmen with her as a girl. And that was the point of this journey, she wanted to know _that_ Elsa. The Elsa that had been stolen from her. “That’s why I need to find the trolls, they knew my sister and I want to know more about her.” Kristoff doesn’t say anything to that, driving them further into the woods.

“Were almost there,” Kristoff announces suddenly, evidently still uncomfortable but still trying.

“Really? I thought we were lost,” she jokes to try and lighten the mood. Kristoff lets out a gruff chuckle in response.

He stops the sled and helps her to the ground. He unhooks Sven from the sled and the reindeer starts to prance around the area, familiar with the area, which had to be a good sign.

“Hey! I’m home!” He walks up to a small boulder and says “You look great! I haven’t been gone that long and you look like you’ve grown,” he keeps walking around the various boulders and saying similar things.

Anna turns to the reindeer, for reasons that she can’t quite fathom, and says “Is he okay?” The longer that he keeps talking to the rocks the more she thinks that she may die out here. Murdered by a crazy man talking to rocks. Much to her surprise, the rocks start to shake and quickly morph into, what she guesses, are trolls. Then, out of options, she screams and faints.

The next time that she wakes there are at least ten trolls standing over her. She almost faints again but the trolls around her quickly push her to her feet—pushing her forward to Kristoff and another troll. She catches them in the middle the of a conversation.

“—I told you, Mom, I didn’t bring a girl home, well I did, but I only brought her because she extorted me.”

“What were we supposed to think? You never bring anyone home and out of the blue you bring a girl home and she passes out immediately!” She notices Anna and quickly turns to her. “Well hello! How are you? You feeling better?”

“Yes, I’m feeling better,” Anna’s not sure that it’s true but it seems like the polite thing to do, “Hi, I’m Anna,” she’s been trained in meeting dignitaries, never trolls. 

“Bulda, a pleasure to meet you,” she waves off Kristoff’s attempts to cut into the conversation. “This one’s mine, he’s funny to look at but a lovely boy,” she gestures to Kristoff who’s trying to hide behind his hand. “Are you single?”

“I am?” It comes out more like a question. She is single, but she’s never been interrogated by the parent of a man before.

“Ooo have you seen my boy? He’s so handsome and single, I know the thing with the reindeer is a little weird but …”

“Mom!” Kristoff yells, finally breaking out of his utter embarrassment to finally speak. “Anna isn’t here for romance, she’s looking for information about her sister!” He shouts the last bit and the trolls that had gathered around them to eavesdrop grow quiet quickly.

“Actually, Kristoff’s right, I’m here for answers, not him,” Anna feels sheepish saying that in front of, what is likely, Kristoff’s family; but they don’t seem to react badly.

“I’ll call for Grand Pabbie, he’s the one that may know the answers that you’re looking for,” Kristoff’s, _mother?_ , Anna guesses, replies seriously before rolling off.

“Is this a normal thing?” Anna turns to Kristoff finally.

“More or less, my whole life has been nothing but trolls, they’re always like this,” Kristoff shrugs, turning his head to watch Sven play with some younger and smaller trolls. Anna follows his eyeline and smirks at the sight.

“Is that why you’ve never brought anyone home?”

“Never had anyone to bring home, you are technically the first,” he scratches behind his head, trying to look anywhere but her. She can’t help but find this charming.

“I’m flattered,” she says laughing a little bit, she is, even if it doesn’t mean anything. Trolls aren’t nearly as scary as any of the books she’s read about them.

“Grand Pabbie is coming!” One of the smaller trolls’ yells before throwing themselves at Kristoff. The grab onto his shoulder and the others quickly dogpile on him almost burying him stones before he can protest. Anna tries to pull them off of him but they’re heavier than she expects.

While she’s still trying to pull some trolls of Kristoff Grand Pabbie rolls up to her and unfurls without warning. Anna is shocked, but this day has been nothing but shocking all day, so the feeling is pretty muted at this point.

“I remember you,” he says, although the feeling is not mutual. Anna would remember meeting a troll, and this day would not have been nearly as weird if remembered or knew him to begin with.

Anna doesn’t really know what to do at this point so, she cuts straight to the point, “Did you know my sister Elsa?” She’s halting in this question; at times she didn’t think of her sister as a real person and doubted that others could see her as one as well. _Joan_ the painting in the foyer who had listened to her for too long was a martyr—nothing to aspire to but nothing to look down upon. Her tutors, once she was important enough for them, had been sure to impart this to her. Elsa had been a martyr but in a different way. Elsa had shielded her from a childhood full of duty and Anna was still working through that, even now. Anna is pulled out of her reverie but Pabbie’s words.

“Yes, the princess born with ice powers, I had heard she passed, I was very sorry to hear about that,” Pabbie says, though Anna doesn’t know if she believes him. Many people had been sorry about Elsa’s passing, but even fewer had meant it. Anna had been trapped at that funeral for only a few hours and seen more grief than she though possible. Much of it was palpable, but much more of it was for show, and it was important that she know the difference, even then. It was insulting to think that she didn’t know the difference at this point.

“Thank you, but I didn’t know Elsa that well,” even now, talking about her sister’s death felt strange. She hadn’t known how to feel then and certainly not now. She had been given time to move past it and she hadn’t. It wasn’t enough time; it never would be. Pabbie was certainly a different subject than Kristoff. Her parents had dedicated so much time to Elsa’s care and education and when there was nothing more for them to do for or to her, they simply moved onto her. The main thing that she did know about her sister was that was that her life had been nothing more than four walls.

(After her sister’s funeral Anna had finally been able to sneak into Elsa’s room, there was no reason to guard something that no longer had anything worth protecting. Now, knowing what she knows, Anna wonders if they were protecting Elsa the princess or Elsa the secret. The room didn’t have the same comforts that hers did. No stuffed animals, no art on the walls, no signs of life. It was sparse and utilitarian. _Lonely_ , is the word she realizes later. This room had been Elsa’s whole world and there had been nothing in it)

“You didn’t?”

“My parents never told me that much about her and I never saw her much,” Anna knows then and there that there is no one out there who has the answers. Her parents are untrustworthy, the trolls didn’t know anything about, she didn’t know anything.

“I told your parents that fear would be Elsa’s enemy,” he’s cryptic, and he means to be. Totally incomprehensible, Anna always hated people like that. The fact that she could tell this made her suited for the crown, at least, according to her parents.

“But what did you mean by that? Whose fear?”

Pabbie doesn’t answer her question, “We never saw Elsa after the first time that your parents brought her, we hoped for the best that they would find a way to help her.”

“My father said that he was coming to see you the day that Elsa disappeared,” she wants to demand an answer, but knows that she’s in no position of power. She doubts that, even if she demanded, she would get an answer anyways.

“We never saw him, if he was coming to see us, he never made it.” Of all the things that the Trolls told her, that sounded the most true.

“My mother told me that you took my memories when I was a child,” she begins taking a deep breath before continuing, “Will my memories ever come back?” She wanted to know her sister, the real version of her sister than had been denied to her for years.

“With time perhaps,” she wants to scream, “I can take memories but not give them back, your memories are still there, you just can’t reach them right now.”

“How long though? I want to know my sister! I don’t want to be old and gray when I finally remember few years we had together!”

“I’m sorry princess, there is nothing I can do,” Pabbie bows briefly before turning away. Before he can turn away fully, she grabs his moss-covered shoulder.

“You have to help me! Why did I come all the way out here? If you don’t have the answers, then nobody does!” She’s crying now, not openly, but the tears leaking out of her eyes were enough to blur her vision.

“You won’t always get the answers you seek princess, and the answers you find may not be what you desire.” He takes her hand as a sign of comfort. The cool stone isn’t as comforting as the gesture is likely intended, but Anna appreciates the gesture. “I truly hope that you find the answers you’re looking for.”

Anna wipes her tears with her cloak and allows him to leave. Not satisfied but okay with the outcome. Kristoff offers to give her a ride back to Arendelle.

“I’m sorry they didn’t have the answers you were looking for,” he starts the conversation, maybe out of pity, but she appreciates it.

“It’s okay, I’m not sure what I expected.” She had expected to find out something that would help her understand her sister or even her parents. They had apparently done this horribly traumatic thing and gotten off with impunity.

“It still sucks though,” Sven seems to snort in agreement.

“Yeah, it does,” she laughs then.

“So, where to princess?”

“Ugh, I can’t believe Pabbie told everyone that, I was trying to lay low.”

“Why? Are you a runaway bride? Trying to buy enough time for your true love to become worthy of you? Or do you not like your fiancé to begin with?”

“Have more fun at my expense why don’t you? I’m not even dating anyone!” Anna punches him in the shoulder, he pretends that it hurts, “I got into a fight with my mom, she told me a bunch of stuff about my sister that I didn’t know and now I don’t know how to feel about her.”

“I heard some of what you and Pabbie were talking about, but I don’t really know your situation.”

“My sister had ice powers and when we were kids, she accidentally hurt me, to save me my parents took me to trolls and Pabbie took my memories of my sister’s powers. And immediately after all of that, they separate us and basically lock my sister in a room for the next few years. My parents never talked about her and it was basically like living with a ghost! They told me that she was sick! They told everyone that! What else didn’t they tell me?”

“That’s a lot,” Kristoff scratches his neck, looking anywhere but her.

“It is, and that’s why I can’t see my mom right now,” Kristoff doesn’t ask about her father, even as infrequently as he visited Arendelle he had heard of the King’s passing. “I don’t think I want to go back to Arendelle yet.”

“Then where do you want me to drop you off?” He’s apprehensive, unsure of where she’s going with this.

“Do you know anywhere fun?”

“I think so,” Kristoff takes her deep in the mountains to where he harvests ice. The frozen lake is a beautiful sight. She’s never been to this part of Arendelle, she realizes that she hasn’t been to a lot of different places in Arendelle. He has a small cabin where he stays when he’s harvesting. It’s hardly bigger than her closet, but it’s cozy. The three of them, because Sven sleeps indoors, barely fit. But it’s the most fun few days that she’s had in a long time.

Kristoff teaches her to ice fish, she’s not particularly good at it but she’s never had the opportunity to try something like that. Kristoff loans her some warmer clothes and they sit for hours out on the ice trying to catch their dinner. Anna doesn’t seem to have any talent for fishing, she tended to check the hook repeatedly for fish and that scared them off, so Kristoff ends up catching almost all of their food.

“So, when you said that you didn’t grow up with talkative people you were being literal?” They had been on the ice for most of the day, the sun would set soon, they needed to head back soon. At one point or another they always started talking. Sven talked too but only through Kristoff. Anna can’t tell if that’s charming or just strange.

“I grew up with some talkative trolls, but not people,” he laughs then, a real one, Anna likes the sound. “There’s a difference between the two so sometimes it’s hard for me to talk to other people.”

“Does your mom want you to get married? Or does she set you up with every girl you bring home?” Anna throws him a suggestive look, waggling her eyebrows and sticking out her tongue.

“I’ve never let anyone meet my family before.”

“Do you have friends?”

“I have Sven.”

“Sven doesn’t count, I mean human friends.”

“Nope.”

“Why’d you let me?”

“Well, you did extort me,” he throws his freshly caught fish at her, she catches it this time.

“It wasn’t even that bad of an extortion,” he shoots her a look, “You should see some of the cases that my mom oversees. Merchants get into some shady stuff.”

“How long are you going to stay here? Not that I don’t enjoy the company of royalty, but people have to be looking for you by now,” Kristoff didn’t know the punishment for aiding and abetting a runaway princess. Or worse, being suspect of being a kidnapper.

“They probably are, I told my mom to not follow me, no idea if she actually followed that,” Anna shrugs, “What would you do if you were in my position?”

“I have no idea, your life is so confusing,” Anna can’t help but agree with that, “but you love your mom, right?”

“Yeah,” she was angry at her mom, but she still loved her.

“She’s your only family left, I think you should at least hear what she has to say.”

“You’re probably right, can I stay for a little longer though?”

“Of course, it’s nice having someone to talk to other than Sven.” They pack up their fishing supplies and head back to the cabin.

She spends a few more days there before letting Kristoff take her home. She likes Kristoff, he was literally raised by Trolls, but he’s kind despite that. He drops her off at the outskirts of Arendelle, as soon as she enters the city limits, she’s accosted by soldiers. They quickly lead her back to the castle. Her mother greets her at the doors.

“Where were you? I was worried sick! You were gone for over a week!” Her mother inspects her from head to toe, trying to discern if she’s injured anywhere.

“I’m fine, I was just staying with a friend,” Anna moves past her mom to head to her room, it had been a long week and she was in desperate need for a bath.

“Anna you can’t just run off like that! I was worried sick! We need to talk!” Her mother tries to grab her hand to make her stop but Anna pulls it away before she can.

“We can talk later mother, I want to know everything, but not now,” Anna rushes up the stairs, calling for Gerda to draw her a bath.

-

Anna is home before her coming-out ball. She didn’t plan on being back that soon, but she could only hide from her problems for so long. She and her mother still hadn’t spoken about everything. These days were too busy, they were opening the gates to many of their allies and everything had to be perfect.

Eighteen was always going to be a big age for her. Even before she was named heir, eighteen was the age where she could begin to court officially. Her hand hadn’t been given to anyone, so she was a free woman.

The day they open the gates for the party Anna wanders around the town just to watch the festivities begin. She had wanted to take a little time for herself on the day that would be about everyone else. Villagers call from their positions and wish her a happy birthday. She’s too busy waving that she doesn’t notice the person she crashes into. She knocks him clear to the ground and then lands unceremoniously on top of him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, this is awkward. Not that you’re awkward, you’re gorgeous. Wait what?” She scrambles off of him as quickly as she can, unfortunately realizing that the man she hit was attractive.

“Oh, it’s no problem, let me introduce myself, I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isle,” he rights himself and offers his hand to her in a flourish of motion.

“Princess Anna of Arendelle, I’m charmed,” she offers her hand and he bows low and kisses it like a true gentleman. Anna can’t help but feel ungainly next to him.

“Oh! Your majesty, I had no idea! Let me wish you a happy birthday.” He’s overly charming and Anna is easily charmed.

“Thank you! You’re the first of the guests that I’ve had the pleasure to meet, I just hope that everyone else is so nice,” Anna knew that she needed to be heading back, it was almost time for her to get into her dress and do her makeup. “It’s been lovely to meet you, but I need to get back to the castle,” Anna makes a move to rush off but Hans grabs her hand before she can get going.

“Well I hope to see more of you tonight.”

“Of course! I can’t wait!” She yells as she rushed off.

Her maids manage to shove her into her dress and finish her makeup just in time for her meeting with the council. Her eighteenth birthday was also the day that she would start taking on more responsibilities for the crown. She wouldn’t be officially coronated until she was 21 but it was still a big milestone.

Her mother and the council had hammered out all of the details after her father’s death. At sixteen she was far too young to take the throne; her mother had some experience to take over in the interim. They talk about this at length before they finally present her on the balcony to the citizens and then the party can actually begin. She runs into Hans early in the party and never leaves his side. She shows him around the castle and they talk about everything and nothing for hours.

“Any siblings?”

“Seven older brothers, it’s horrible, we did nothing but fight,” Han sighs in this charmingly chagrined way and Anna can only guess what that must be like, “What about you?”

“An older sister, but she died a few years ago,” it was easier to talk about it now, she had practice.

“I’m sorry,” Hans places a hand on her shoulder, but offers nothing else and doesn’t elaborate.

They’re on one of the castles many balconies when he pops the question.

“Can I say something crazy?” he has a wild look in his eyes that Anna can’t discern but assumes must be something good.

“Sure!”

“Will you marry me?” He has no ring because this likely wasn’t planned but Anna likes the spontaneity of it. They had a real connection and why not parley that into marriage?

“Can I say something crazier? Yes!” She could have a normal relationship, one where they wouldn’t keep secrets from each other.

Hans is charming and warm and open, and Anna falls for him right away. He’s the seventh prince of the Southern Isles. A kingdom that Arendelle had neither a great nor a terrible relationship with. An alliance through marriage would be advantageous, Anna reasons. They rush back to the ballroom to tell her mother.

Kristoff had come into town specifically for Anna’s coming out ball. She had invited him personally, sending his invitation through Oaken. He had been a little late and missed the earlier ceremonies but there were still many hours before midnight. He had bought a nicer coat just for the occasion, it wasn’t his style, but he wanted to make the effort. He leaves Sven in the stables with the other horses and makes his way inside.

There are so many people around that he can’t even tell which way is up. He catches a glimpse of red hair and follows that through a thick crowd. What he finds on the other end is not Anna but a well-dressed redhead man. Kristoff is a little taken aback and that’s clearly visible on his face.

“Hans of the Southern Isles,” the redhead man introduces himself with the barest of flourishes, Kristoff had seen him sizing him up, has he approached, the other man could tell that he wasn’t anyone from the upper echelon of society. No one worth meeting, Kristoff wants to punch him already.

“Kristoff, of the Northern Mountain,” he offers his hands to shake but Hans ignores it. It’s then that he notices Anna at his side.

“Kristoff! I’m so glad you made it!” Anna pulls him into a tight hug that he quickly returns, she’s stronger than she looks, and Kristoff feels the air leave his lungs for a moment.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he says breathlessly, not just because of the hug. Anna looks amazing, she always did but she was even better today. “Happy birthday!” He pulls a small package out of his jacket for her and offers it to her.

“You didn’t have to!” Anna says excitedly as she grabs the package out of his hands. Evidently excited whether or not he was supposed to get her a gift. She tears into the package unveiling the small wooden carving he had made for her. It was a model of his cabin on the lake, complete with a polished lake surface and a mini Sven outside the cabin. “I love it, thank you so much Kristoff, it’s amazing!” She plants a quick peck on the cheek before handing the trinket off to a servant passing by. “Take good care of it!” She calls after the servant hurriedly walking off with it. “I like the coat, you look very nice,” she pulls at the fabric, he knows that she’s making fun of him, but doesn’t care.

“I got it just for the occasion.”

“Well it looks nice, you clean up well,” Anna teases.

“Thank you, so do you,” he gestures to her ensemble, her dress was a deep green with a black bodice. He can catch only the briefest glances of the embroidery work on the bodice without breaking modesty.

Hans coughs, and they collectively remember that he’s still here and listening to their conversation. “Oh, you’ve met Hans, right?”

“Yes, how exactly do you know each other?”

“He’s my fiancé,” Anna says simply, like what that wasn’t a huge bombshell. 

“When did this happen?” Kristoff tries to hide the hurt and confusion in his voice.

“Today,” Hans answers although he wasn’t’ talking to him.

“We met and we just clicked!” Anna is so happy that he doesn’t want to be upset, but he is.

“We even finish each other’s—"

“—Sandwiches!”

“That’s what I was going to say!” Kristoff knows that wasn’t what Hans was going to say. The happy couple is almost insufferable. Well, Hans is insufferable, Anna is a delight as always. No one in their right mind, besides Anna, would say sandwiches over sentences. Kristoff had been raised by trolls and he could guess as much. 

“Hey Anna, can I talk to you alone?” Kristoff offers, trying to figure out the situation.

“Oh okay, Hans I’ll be back in a sec,” she waves as she lets Kristoff lead them away.

“Are you really going to marry someone that you’ve known for less than a day?”

“Kristoff, you just don’t get it, when you meet the right person you just know,” Anna has this dreamy look in her eyes that makes Kristoff uneasy. He and Anna had met up a few times between her running away and now and he had never seen it before. He was used to the Anna that was angry at the world but willing to forgive. Not whoever this was.

“There’s something weird about that guy Anna!” He couldn’t put his finger on it, Hans rubbed him the wrong way.

“You’re just jealous!”

“Of what? His sideburns?” It’s at this point that Kristoff realizes that he’s making a scene, he doesn’t know any of these people and doesn’t care.

“Because he had the guts to do what you could only dream of!” Anna, realizing the same, whisper yells back at him.

“What? Ask someone to marry them after knowing them a day?” He wants to yell back at her but matches her volume instead, he didn’t want to be rude.

“Of telling someone how you feel!” And Kristoff has nothing to say to that because it’s true.

Anna goes back to Hans as Kristoff steams off to the side, he thinks about just leaving but he was hungry and free food was free food. He heads to the buffet and sneaks a few of the morsels into his coat pockets to share with Sven later.

Hans passes by him later on in the night, pretends to trip and spills a drink all over him. His jacket is soaked in wine and he smells like a drunk. Hans apologizes but doesn’t mean it. One of the servants takes him aside and takes his coat to clean. He’s left in his normal shirt which is far less impressive.

Leaving the room where they took his jacket Kristoff tries to find his way back to the ballroom. They promised to get his jacket back to him as soon as possible, which could be anywhere between an hour and a week. He hoped that it was sooner because it was a cold night.

He has no idea where he’s heading so when he hears voices, he follows the sound. The hallways in the castle are long and ornate and confusing. He almost walks in on the conversation before realizing that it wasn’t even the ballroom. He ducks behind a corner before anyone spots him. 

“I swear, it was almost too easy,” After a moment Kristoff recognizes the voice as Hans, it was far too smug to be anyone else. “I will be the king of Arendelle before the end of the month,” Hans laughs then, and Kristoff is sure it’s him.

Kristoff listens as closely as he can before he rushes off as quietly as he can.

-

They decide to tell her mother after the whole debacle with Kristoff. Anna had never expected him to react so negatively. They find her near the throne talking with a few foreign dignitaries. They wait patiently until she’s free.

“Mom, we would like to ask your blessing for our marriage,” Anna clutches Han’s hand and is overly conscious about the lack of sweat on his hand in comparison to her own.

“What? Wait, marriage?”

“Yes, we’re engaged, Hans asked me to marry him a few hours ago and I said yes!”

Her mother takes a few moments to compose herself before replying, “Anna, you can’t marry a man you just met.”

“Mother, it’s true love,” Anna implores, begging her mother to actually listen to her for once.

“What do you know of true love Anna? You’ve known him for what? Twelve hours? Maybe fourteen?”

“More than you! All you know how to do is lie to people! How is that love?”

“You asked for my blessing, and the answer is no,”

“Your highness, if I may only interject—" Hans starts, but Iduna interjects before he can continue.

“Prince Hans, is it? I’m sure you have the greatest of intentions with my daughter,” Iduna tries to not sound sarcastic as it was unbecoming of royalty, but honestly she was done with this situation already. “But you and Anna have known each other for less than a day and I have to question your intentions, and my answer is still no, no matter your objections.”

“Mom! You can’t just say no!”

“I can Anna, and you can’t marry a man you just met,” her mother turns away, effectively ending the conversation.

“You don’t get to do this! You don’t just get to shut me down without a reason! Not anymore!” Anna yells, clearing knowing that she’s causing a scene but evidently not caring. Iduna signals for the staff to start to close down the party.

“Anna… please,” Iduna implores her daughter to calm down. It had never been Anna’s strong suit and would likely not become hers in the next few seconds but Iduna can’t help but hope.

“No,” Anna grabs Hans’ hand and starts to back up from the dais, the hall had begun to clear now. “Don’t come after me, I need… I need some space,” she says finally, after which she turns, and the couple runs out the door.

They find themselves back at the Southern Isles ship. Hans invites her in, but Anna knows all of the innkeepers well enough to find a place to stay.

“Can we just get married back in the Southern Isles? Your father won’t care what who you marry, will he?” It’s then that Anna sees a flash of something flit across Hans’ face. (Later, she’ll recognize the feeling as barely concealed rage) She knew that he was the seventh son, it was one of the first things he told her about himself, she knew how succession worked in larger families—the further down the line the more freedom you had. She was only the second daughter and she had an infinite amount more freedom than her sister. Had she had more older sibling she could probably do whatever she wanted.

“No, Anna, although I doubt that my father would have any problems with our union, I want your mother to approve of us, she is your only family after all,”

“That’s so sweet, but I don’t know how we’d ever change her mind.”

“Tomorrow I will go to the castle and talk with her, I promise you that I will make her understand,” he says the last line with a smile before kissing her. His lips are unrelenting, wanting more than she’s willing to give, but when she pushes him away, he only looks mildly chagrined. Retreating to his own room like a gentleman.

Hans meets her for breakfast the net morning at Hudson’s Hearth before heading out to talk to her mother.

Kristoff’s jacket hadn’t been returned to him by the impromptu end of the party. The staff had asked him to come back the next morning. Having nowhere else to stay and not wanting to make the trek back to the mountains he had elected to stay in the stables. The stable boy had been quite surprised to find him there come morning, but he didn’t have enough authority to actually kick him out. Kristoff explains the situation as best he can and gets led into the castle to retrieve his jacket. The stain is mostly gone, as long as you didn’t look too closely it you couldn’t even tell that it had been soiled at all. He turns a corner sharply and crashes right into someone, which really, is just his luck. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” He stammers out as he jumps back from the collision. It’s just his luck that the woman he almost knocked down is the Queen of Arendelle, so, he might as well just crawl in a hole and die. “I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I didn’t mean it and…”

“Really it’s fine,” it wasn’t because she hadn’t seen Anna since last night and her daughter had left with a man she had known, checking the time, all of twenty or hours maximum. The man who ran into her was till blabbing on about something or another, likely still apologizing. She doesn’t recognize him, so he likely didn’t work in the castle. “Really… what was your name again?”

“Kristoff, your majesty,” he refuses to meet her eyes.

“Kristoff, it’s fine really,” the name sparks something in her brain, “Kristoff, do you know my daughter, Anna?” Anna had mentioned the name Kristoff maybe once or twice after coming back from her dangerous sojourn. He was the friend that she stayed with while she was avoiding coming home.

“Anna, yeah, she invited me to the party last night, I’ve been meaning to find her and thank her for everything, but she was with this guy all last night.”

“Hans, yes,” she says out of pure reflex, “Did you notice anything strange about him when you spoke to him last night? You did speak to him last night, right?”

“Actually yes,” Kristoff awkwardly meets her eyes, his sentences come out halting as he recounts his version of the night, like even he wasn’t totally sure what had happened, “He spilled a drink on me to get me away from Anna, and then when I was taking with one of the staff members I overheard him talking to someone, where he said that he could be the king of Arendelle within the week?” The last sentences is full of unnecessary pauses, but it was all Iduna needed to hear. There was something wrong with Hans and he may be plotting something far worse.

“Kristoff, I need you to repeat what you just said back to me,” Iduna puts her hand on his shoulder, trying to sound calm despite the firestorm going on in her head. Before he can repeat the very important information a messenger runs up to them, skidding to halt before bowing hastily.

“Lady Iduna, there is a Prince Hans requesting an audience with you.”

“Send him in, but tell him to expect to wait, I’m not in the mood to receive guests.”

“As you wish,” the messenger says before rushing off.

“Please go find Anna, I’ll try and figure out something with Hans, but she needs to know what you heard,” she implores this man she’s only just met.

“She’ll never believe me,” Kristoff looks sheepish now, “We got into a fight last night and I don’t know if she’d even listen to me now.”

“You have to try; I have to get to meeting with a man that I don’t want to be my future son in law and hope that I don’t get murdered by said man,” Kristoff sees the resemblance between mother and daughter then. The queen, the five minutes and counting he had known her, had been nothing but serious. Kristoff almost laughs at the realization. But he rushes at her orders. Iduna walks down the short hallway to the room where Hans was waiting. The guards at the door open the doors wide for her entrance.

“Your majesty,” Hans bows too low at her entrance.

“Prince Hans, how _lovely_ it is to see you again,” she doesn’t take his offered hand, instead gesturing for him to sit at the small table by the window. The servants had chosen a small library in the west wing. Iduna had never visited it before, the library was full of historical records, not exactly regular reading material. She notes the hastily re-shelved tome that Hans had probably been reading. _Someone had found it worth reading_ she thinks. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said, and I still can’t agree with you two getting married this soon.”

“I understand that, but I hope that you can get over your preconceived notions about us, Anna and I are in love and we don’t want to waste any time apart,” he’s charming, she’ll give him that, or he means to be at least. He was a snake. No different from the ones in the forest, no different from the ones on the council.

“I have known my daughter for longer than you have, and, as much as I understand your feelings, I cannot stand by and allow a marriage to pass.” He knows that she will not fold, if she was going to, she would have done it already, so he pulls out his trump card.

“I have a peace offering of sorts for you,” he unveils a small pastry box from underneath the table. She doesn’t recognize the label and then belatedly realizes that it’s likely from the Southern Isles, it was also likely poisoned. Assassinations weren’t uncommon, they were mostly targeted towards Agnarr because he was the one with real power but when she and Agnarr had first gotten engaged the head of the guard had briefed her on various things to be vigilant about. Poison was one of them.

She opens the box just for show, takes a deep whiff, she can’t smell anything fishy but most good poisons were odorless. “How lovely, I’ll have the kitchen makes these up for tea later today,” she can see the moment where his plan starts to fall apart. She was supposed to eat the pastries at that very moment, her illness would make Anna stay in Arendelle, and her death would clear them of any barriers for marriage. The kind smile falling off of his face as easily as water off a duck’s back. 

“I see,” Hans stands up and turns away from her, retrieving the book he had surreptitiously been reading before her entrance. He opens it to a dogeared page and starts to speak again, there’s no charm in his inflection this time, only malevolence. “You’re not of noble blood, in fact, no one knows your lineage, not even a little bit, I would hardly call my jockeying for the throne any more blasphemous than your own,” Hans rips off his own mask. 

“I hardly think that’s for you to decide,” Iduna manages to retain her composure.

“I think that Anna would find it quite fascinating however, you’ve never told her that much of your history, correct? I think that it’s high time that someone tells her,” he drops the book hard on the table between them, the sound echoes for a moment or an eternity. “Do you really think that anything you say to Anna will matter after that?” He leaves before Iduna can protest.

-

“Anna!” Kristoff had run the whole way to the inn. Well he had run to several different inns and eventually found the one that Anna had been staying at. It took far too long.

“Kristoff, what are you doing here?” Anna is sipping hot cocoa by the fire, a touching scene really, were the situation anything else.

“I really wanted to talk to you, I didn’t like how we left things last night,” that part was too true. He wanted to help Anna, even if it meant ruining his relationship with her.

“I hope you’re ready to apologize for what you said,” Anna glowers, wanting the apology more for herself than Hans, she had known Kristoff longer after all.

“I’m not, Hans spilled a drink on me on purpose to get me away from you, and I overheard a conversation where he said that was going to be sitting on the throne of Arendelle within the week!” Before Anna can interject he musters up his courage and continues, “I know that you just think I’m jealous or crazy and maybe I am! I do like you! But please just go and talk to your mom, she knows more than I do, but Hans is not who he says he is! He’s after the crown, you’re just collateral to him!”

“How dare you! Hans is a good man!” Anna stands firm.

Then he shows up and Kristoff watches Anna turn into this totally different person in the blink of an eye.

“Hans! How did it go?” She asks excitedly, Hans wasn’t frowning so there had to be some good news.

“Darling, I spoke with your mother, she didn’t say yes but I do believe that she will come around sooner rather than later,” the mask is firmly back in place.

“Okay, so what should we do?” Kristoff totally forgotten; they leave the café chatting amicably.

Hans calms her down on their walk to the dock. Upon Hans’s insistence, they would spend the night on his ship. Her mother had the night to decide whether she wanted to be in her daughter’s life. Either way, they would be married at dawn. He had sent word to the castle to inform her mother. Anna thinks it far too short of a deadline, but Hans insisted that the lack of time would make her mother see reason.

“Don’t worry Anna, all of this will be far behind us soon,” Hans places his arm around her shoulder, the sun was setting over the fjord and the view was lovely.

“What about my mother?” Anna wonders aloud.

“I have a feeling that she’ll come around,” it sounds sinister when he says it, and she knows that he didn’t mean to say it that way. But it sounded that way anyways.

“What do you mean by that?” She had watched him send a small package to the castle, post haste. She had assumed that it was an invitation to their sunrise ceremony, but it was probably a thinly packaged threat.

“I just mean that your mother will see reason, one way or another, and either way we will be husband and wife by tomorrow morning.”

“But what if she doesn’t approve? There’s no way that she and the council would approve of me taking over the throne with an unrecognized marriage,” Kristoff's words ring in her head planting seeds of doubt. If there was truly nothing to fear than there was no harm in rocking the boat.

“Anna I can guarantee that your mother will agree,” Hans reassures.

“But what if she doesn’t? Will you be okay just being the seventh son?” The unspoken is that he would never become king should this happen.

“Don’t speak ill of my family Anna,” he says brusquely, his tone dropping several degrees.

“You spoke ill of mine,” Anna counters, no matter how angry she was with her mother, she still loved her.

“That’s different Anna,” Hans turns away from her, the wind almost catching and carrying away his voice, but it still carries, “Your family doesn’t mean anything.”

“Kristoff was right,” Anna shakes his hand off of her shoulder, suddenly very angry, not just for herself but her whole family. 

“What?” Hans says it like she didn’t just hear what he said. 

“He was right about you,” she turns to him so suddenly that the smug look doesn’t fall off of his face in time, “You only love me because you want the throne.”

“Darling that’s ridiculous, I love you and I want to marry you,” he tries to placate her, but she slaps away the hand that almost lands on her shoulder.

“But would you love me, would you marry me if I weren’t the heir to the throne? What if my sister was still alive? Would you be content playing second fiddle?” Anna points a finger at his chest, daring him to contradict her.

She watches the vein in his forehead bulge and his gloved hands clench into tight fists, but he doesn’t have an answer to that.

“Goodbye Hans, I’d give you the ring back, but you couldn’t even do that right,” Anna turns to leave the ship, the crew that had been less than subtly watching the whole conversation clear a path for her. She’s hallway down the gangplank when a hard hand on her shoulder tries to stop her. Hans says something but it doesn’t even register in her brain.

Anna has never punched someone before, she had thought of it, not often but enough to know how to swing her arm back and hypothetically clock someone. She turns around abruptly and hits Hans as hard as she can in the face. It is simultaneously more painful and much _much_ more satisfying than she expected; also unexpected but not unwelcome is an accompanying very loud splash. She feels something in her hand crack and something crack in Hans’s face. One is much better than the other. When the Southern Isles’ soldiers finally fish him out of the fjord, only after they’ve finished laughing, Hans’s nose is broken, and Anna can’t stop laughing all the way back to the castle.

-

It’s a few months after Anna’s birthday, things have calmed, if only a little bit. Anna had worked with her mother to repair their diplomatic relationships that she had inadvertently damaged during her birthday party and everything was going smoothly. They had sent word to Hans’ family back in the Southern Isles of his misdeeds and they were impatiently awaiting his arrival. They had briefly thought of making him serve his punishment in Arendelle but that would mean subjecting themselves to his presence for even longer, so they decide against it. 

“Anna l need to tell you something,” Kristoff stammers out. They had mended their relationship since Hans. It was easy to put aside two days of disagreements when compared to several months of an amazing friendship to a short-failed engagement.

“I like you, not love, but I like you,” Anna says bluntly, “I like you and I want to see where this goes.”

“Okay,” he smiles then and Anna pulls him down to give him a peck on the cheek. Her flushes red and Anna can’t help but chuckle at the color.

“Can we talk?” Her mother asks tentatively, they had spoken a lot in the past few months, much more than the ones that preceded it. But it was time to really talk.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Anna sits down to finally listen.

“I know that telling you everything about Elsa and her powers was too much for a single sitting but there’s one more family secret that I need to tell you.”

“Who knows this one?”

“You would be the first, I never told anyone this, not even your father.”

“Really?”

“Yes, truth be told I was afraid to tell anyone in Arendelle about it,” her mother fiddles with the ribbons on her dress, and for the first time, Anna sees how insecure she was in her position. She had always heard that her mother was born a commoner, she had risen above her station with her marriage to her father, but this was the first time that her mother let her into this struggle, “I was born far north of Arendelle, in the enchanted forest.”

“The enchanted forest?” There’s an incredulity to it, like Anna thinks that she may be joking.

“Yes, Anna, I’m Northuldran.”

“What?”

“I was born in the Northuldra tribe in the northern reaches of Arendelle territory,” Iduna pauses for only a moment, not wanting to give Anna a chance to respond, “I came to Arendelle immediately after the incident that killed King Runeheard.”

“So, after the fog?” The mist wasn’t taught well or often in Arendellian education. A certain part of her is surprised that she even knows

“Yes,

“Is that true?”

“It’s all true, I swear.”

“Okay,” Anna sags into her chair in something of a relief.

“Okay?” Iduna unsteadily rises to her feet, closing the distance between the two.

“I need some time to process, but I want to know everything eventually,” she lets her mother pull her into a hug then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started writing this I never planned on this part being so long, I planned to just jump into the Frozen 2 material but things change. We'll probably start hitting that territory within the next chapter or so though.  
> Anyways I hope y'all enjoy!


	7. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bunch of fluff happens and also things start moving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not forget about this fic. Whatever I've said before about a chapter being hard to write was wrong. This chapter was hard to write. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed during the interim though, I really appreciated it!

Life had settled. She was in control of her powers, her emotions didn’t rule her life anymore, she did. Elsa was never sure what she really wanted back when her whole world was nothing more than four walls, but she imagined it would feel something like this. Ever since their first dance together Elsa had been feeling strange. She didn’t have the word for it for a long time, but she felt it all the same.

Elsa had never given much thought to courting. She had known that she would eventually need to marry for good of the kingdom, but that time was far past her now. Marrying for love had never even been on her radar. That had always been a possibility for Anna, but never her—Elsa never considered this a loss. (She always guessed that, had their positions been reversed, the same would not have been true. Afterall, she and her sister had always been different people. She can’t fault Anna on this, given the circumstances now maybe they weren’t that different after all) As a child Elsa had never entertained the idea of being happy in marriage or even being married to begin with. Now it was and wasn’t a real possibility for her. She had danced with Maren; it was an admission of her feelings and nothing more than a friendly gesture.

The word is infatuation, an old vocabulary word from her studies, she was infatuated with Maren, she _liked_ Maren. Anna would say crush. She had a _crush_ on Maren. Elsa thinks that Anna would know better anyways; she had her first crush on one of the kitchen staff’s sons at five. Elsa had felt as much as a schoolgirl’s crush on anyone in her life, even before the isolation, she never felt anything like what she felt now and that terrified her.

Elsa is still unsure whether blaming herself for the decline of her parent’s marriage is apropos, but she _is_ sure that her powers didn’t help. She can’t let that go, no matter how much she wants just to forget about Arendelle. She hopes that her family is okay and hopes that counts for something. She’s happy, she should be allowed to be happy)

(He parents had been happy, Elsa thinks. Long before her birth, they had been happy together, even in some moments after they had been happy together. Man­­y royals had never been happy in their unions and she had grown up prepared for that. Her father had broken tradition by marrying a commoner; two generations in a row was unheard of, Elsa knew this even now. She never had the sheer romanticism that Anna did, but now she had someone she liked. Which was a first.

Same-sex relationships were never something Elsa knew that much about. There were no laws explicitly against it but in the same vein, there were nothing explicitly supporting it. Elsa had learned the policies forwards and backwards, but she had never given too much thought to the actual people that the laws affected; let alone that they may apply to her.

Elsa had heard her fair share of rumors through the walls of her room. Mostly they were about her, but every now and then she heard about the rumor about the citizens of Arendelle. There had been men that loved and lived with men and women that loved and lived with women. The soldiers at her door had little else to talk about other than idle gossip. Some part of her had always enjoyed this. There were no books on her shelf with stories like these. Elsa remembers the scandalous nature of them more than the actual stories. _People like that_ were never fully accepted. That had stuck with her more than anything.

Elsa had been thinking about it far too much recently. The thoughts swirled around in her head enough that she could think of nothing else. They consumed her. She had asked Maren to dance because she thought it an indignity that Maren not be asked to dance. She liked Maren, more than she should, more than appropriate.

The six months between the first and second dances are consumed by her thoughts. Elsa feels out of control. Not in the way that she used to but it’s unnerving all the same. Her powers don’t’ burn to be let out, they’re excited to be let out; they don’t force their way out, but they would love to be free. She’s excited. Every night that she lies down beside Maren the feeling only grows.

Their relationship hadn’t changed much, despite the upheaval. She and Maren still shared a goahti, meals, and almost all of their secrets. Maren had moved her bedroll closer to Elsa’s own and they often spent their nights chatting until one of them finally fell asleep. 

Looking back, she had never felt true warmth, but the way that her face burns, and later her entire body, must be something like the feeling that others described. (She had never the cold, but she had also never felt the sun the same way her contemporaries in Arendelle had)

She’s slow to realize because she’s always been bad with other people, but people like her were not the same social outcasts that they were in Arendelle. The knowledge is reassuring but not entirely. It’s nice to know that she had a place here, but her memories of Arendelle taint the comfort that it should bring.

She still felt wrong, even if nothing was telling her that anymore.

Their second, third, and fourth dances pass without much changing. She and Maren always dance together but things had changed slowly as time went on. Maren had started to dance with other people as well. Elsa wouldn’t use the word jealous, but others might—Ryder did, so did Yelena.

“Elsa your face is making me sick, I just want to eat my stew in peace,” Ryder shoves her as they sit side by side on a log near one of the campfires. They had a great vantage point to watch Maren and some boy feed their stew to each other at a different campfire.

“Truly, I can’t eat while looking at you,” Yelena adds from her perch on a nearby log, she takes a hearty bite of her stew in spite of her snark.

Elsa freezes Ryder’s spoon in retaliation, knowing better than to try anything with Yelena.

“Hey!” He protests, stealing Elsa’s spoon and shoving his frozen one into her own bowl. She doesn’t mind, cold food never bothered her.

Not even bothering to unfreeze the spoon Elsa finally digs into her own meal. Through a mouthful she mumbles, “It’s just gross, seeing two people do stuff like that,” trying to avert her eyes but finding it hard to tear her eyes away. 

“You’re just upset that you and Maren aren’t spoon-feeding each other,” Ryder sticks his tongue out at her, and Elsa almost knocks the bowl out of his hands.

“Shut up!” She whisper-yells at him, trying to avoid drawing attention to herself but it has the opposite effect.

“Elsa, is my brother bothering you?” Maren calls out from across the field. Elsa hopes that the firelight hides how red her face is.

“No Maren! Elsa’s being mean to me!” Ryder calls out, noticing her discomfort and saving her from further embarrassment.

“I doubt it!” Maren laughs and Elsa feels her face get even hotter, the rest of her is almost frozen solid.

“You need to do something about this Elsa, you can’t live your life like this,” Yelena chastises her, she did that a lot but with the best of intentions. Elsa could feel the love behind it, when her father reprimanded her all she would feel was horrible about herself.

“Like what? Pining?”

“Like looking like a lovesick reindeer, you need to tell Honeymaren how you feel or get over it.”

“You’re hopeless, it’s a miracle you’ve made it this far,” Ryder jabs and she shoves the bowl out of his hands finally, it was empty by then though.

Elsa doesn’t have anything to say to that. Because it was true and that was worse. It was better to live in the in-between. She could stay friends with Maren and not worry about whether her feelings were reciprocated.

Elsa would make snow for whoever asked for it. Currently, she was making enough snow for a snowball fight for some of the younger tribe members. The first time that it happens she’s surprised to find that people younger than her aren’t afraid of her. She finds that she likes children more than she ever thought. (She had liked Anna from the beginning she knows that and _really_ maybe this should be less of surprise)

“You and Honeymaren are awfully close, aren’t you?” Elsa had gotten to know more of the other village children over the years, but she still wasn’t particularly close with many others her own age. The boy, _young man_ , was tall and broad-shouldered, confident in the way that many would find attractive, Elsa did not.

“Yes?” Elsa can’t tell whether a question was actually being asked.

“Do you think I should ask her to dance?” Aillun, she’s sure of the name after getting a good look at him, she had seen him with Maren a few times. He’s handsome, she’ll give him that. “She’s gotten so pretty lately…” He doesn’t trail off so much as Elsa stops listening. Maren had always been beautiful.

“You’ve danced with her before,” Elsa could not care less about this, she wanted Maren to be happy, but she did not want to be a part of this, whatever it was, “It’s not up to me, she’ll say yes if she wants to dance with you,” she evades giving a real answer. Elsa feels something different burning in her gut this time.

“This is different, we’re of age now, it’s time to start to thinking of the future,” and _then_ Elsa gets what he’s getting at, she does not care for it, “She danced with _you_ last time, I’d say I have pretty good odds,” he doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer before he walks off laughing, as if he didn’t just verbally backhand her. She had been actually backhanded before and couldn’t tell which was worse. Maren might say yes to his offer, they might fall in love and get married, have children, be happy. She’s seething not burning.

The word is jealousy. She’ll admit that now. She doesn’t need anything fancier to describe it. She’s never really felt jealous before. She didn’t envy Anna for getting a normal life, she was happy that her sister got a live a semi-normal life.

The word is anxious, it’s been an integral part of her life since she was born. She hated the idea of Maren being with someone else and hated the idea that Maren would hate her just for how she felt, and she hated that she couldn’t just be happy for Maren.

The last month before their fifth dance Elsa pulls away, ever so slightly. She didn’t want to make Maren uncomfortable. And she had always made people uncomfortable. She moves her bedroll further away from the other girl’s. She feigns sleep when Maren tries to initiate conversation. Maren notices right away but lets it slide for far too long, also not wanting to overstep her bounds.

“Are you okay?” Maren broaches the subject on the eve of the dance. The two had never spoken of their first dance. Elsa had been bold at the moment and terrified for many of the ones afterward, and wasn’t that just the story of her life? Elsa had no idea how Maren felt and was too anxious to ask.

Elsa smiles at the thought that Maren was worried about her, “I don’t know,” she turns to her side to gaze at the honey-colored eyes across the sleeping mats. It was their first conversation in a long time.

“What don’t you know about?”

“I’m anxious, the dance is soon,” that was the easiest answer, it was true but only obliquely. The fear that had been burning in her gut had been that Honeymaren had only been protecting her from her own stupidity. She had been the one to ask Maren to dance, she was to blame for whatever resulted from it. That Maren wouldn’t return her feelings and would reject her for feeling them in the first place. Maren had other relationships, Elsa didn’t.

“Why be afraid of something like that?”

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Elsa doesn’t and that’s scarier than anything.

The actual eve of the dance, she and Maren don’t dance, not immediately at least. They sit on the on the sidelines watching the couples, young and old, dance in the way that she had only started to really learn, “Are they in love?” She gestures to the two men standing close to one another across the fires. Their hands were clenched in a gesture that makes her long for something she can’t place. She had seen them around the northern village site but never spoken to them. They hadn’t joined the other couples in the dance, but Elsa could see from her vantage point the desire to join. She didn’t see people like that, people like her, at the dance all the time. Elsa doesn’t want to point but her curiosity overrules the court rules sill burned into her brain.

“Yes, they’ve been together for years,” Honeymaren was always more familiar with the other villagers than she was. Her social circle had expanded over the years but never widened to the point where she knew everyone and let herself be known by everyone.

“Why don’t they dance?” _Why haven’t I seen them here before?_ She wants to add on but the words catch in her throat.

“Neither of them are much of dancers, I’ve seen them and they always end up tripping over each other’s feet,” Maren snorts at the memory and Elsa can’t help but scoff at the sound.

“Are they happy?”

“I think so, aren’t all couples though?” Something in the way that she says it makes Elsa believe it. That choosing your own partner gave you a real chance at happiness. That that choice didn’t have to come with utter damnation.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies,” her reverie is broken up by Aillun approaching them, he offers his hand to Maren, “May I have this dance?” He’s charming and Elsa wants to hate him or punch him, she’ll unpack that later. There’s more to the gesture than just the dance, both of them know this.

Elsa holds her breath for one, two, three eternities.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested,” Maren scooches ever so slightly closer to her. Elsa unconsciously offers her hand and Maren takes it quietly.

“But—” He tries to salvage the conversation but is quickly cut off.

“I’m not interested, and I was in the middle of a conversation, thank you,” Maren shuts the conversation down and lets him walk away with his tail between his legs. Elsa watches in poorly concealed awe. She moves to pull her hand away, but Maren’s tightens her grip on their joined hands.

“Why did you say no to him?” Elsa can barely hear her own voice over the sound of her heart pounding in her chest.

“I didn’t want to dance with him, isn’t that enough?” Maren cocks her head at Elsa’s less than innocuous question.

“Why wouldn’t you though?” She needed an answer, she needed to know what Maren really thought, what she really thought of him, what she really thought of her.

“I don’t want to marry him, or anything like that, I just wanted to see what it was like,” Maren makes her hold her gaze.

“What what was like?” Elsa asks stupidly.

“Liking someone, courting someone, I don’t know,” Maren breaks eye contact and shakes her head.

“Did it work?”

“No,” Maren laughs at herself, not Elsa.

“Why?” She didn’t like Aillun but he was perfectly serviceable as far as guys went.

“Because I like someone else and I’d rather dance with them,” Maren acts confident, however, the briefest of blushes gracing her face giving her away, “And I’m done pretending,” she laughs despite her anxiousness.

Elsa laughs although she has no idea what Maren means, matching the almost giddy tension between them.

Maren, despite her own nerves, laughs at Elsa’s response and leans into her cool body despite the weather. Elsa feels herself flush and tries to turn so Maren doesn’t notice. “Do you want to dance?”

Elsa almost doesn’t hear the question, “I’m sorry?” she hears everything and nothing as her world closes into nothing but the two of them. All ambient noise, the distant owl moaning about its life, the band keeping the beat, the noise of the other partygoers—all of it fades to the background.

Maren takes a deep breath, readying herself, “I want to dance with you Elsa, not Aillun, not anyone else,” Honeymaren turns to see the scarlet blush across Elsa’s face. She had felt this for years and waited for Elsa to be ready to talk about the feelings that she thought they shared, but she never seemed to be ready. So, she tried to distract herself with other pursuits. Much like Elsa’s plan of avoidance it hadn’t worked at all.

“Why?” Elsa seems to be at a loss for words at this.

“Because I like you!” Honeymaren says at last, pulling Elsa’s face closer to her own, forcing Elsa to meet her eyes once again. She catches Elsa’s eyes for a moment, and she sees something ignite. She feels Elsa’s arms snake around her neck and crash their lips together. Their teeth clink together, and the moment of pain is washed away quickly by everything else.

Elsa’s lips are softer than Honeymaren’s ever imagined, and she had thought about it more than she would ever admit. She’s lost in the feeling until they have to break for air. Pressing their foreheads together they give themselves enough time to catch their breath.

“So, what was that?” She asks, hands roaming freely down Elsa’s back coming to rest on the other girl’s hips. Elsa mirror the gesture and the two borderline on obscene while not even dancing.

“Maybe I like you too,” Elsa finally lets herself admit it out loud and pulls her into another kiss. This one is quick and chaste but she’s breathless all the same. She pulls away blushing furiously, trying to sound as confident as possible says, “I’d love to dance, with you and only you,” standing up she takes Maren back in her arms and leads them in a dance. Elsa knows the dance this time. She had been practicing since her last humiliation, she knew all the steps and feels herself melt into the other girl’s touch.

“Perfect,” Maren whispers into her shoulder. They had been the same height for ages, and only now did she realize that Elsa was taller. The song changes to something more upbeat and Maren switches their positions to lead the next dance. They go back and forth between leading and following and both will agree that nothing has ever felt so right.

Elsa wakes the next morning sprawled across Honeymaren’s bedroll, the two of them not quite fitting on the mat and feels happier than she thought possible.

-

Anna had been practicing for her coronation for months. Not exclusively with the rest of the coronation party but she had been practicing in her room for months before the date. She was inching ever so closer to her 21st birthday and the advent of her taking the throne. She was nervous, to say the least.

She wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot, not even a little bit. She had received training to be the heir since she was eight, she had started taking the training seriously probably a year or two ago. As a child, she had never liked studying. It was torturously boring and as the second-born, there were fewer stakes. She’s sure that her tutors were much less strict with her than they were with Elsa at the same age. After her sister’s death, her lessons are slow to catch up with her. (Some part of her had been _so sure_ that her sister would come back that there wasn’t a point in actually trying to learn what they were teaching her) But they did eventually, and she had to learn everything.

Her mother had no training in ruling the kingdom and was doing fine. She didn’t need to take the throne right away; they should wait a while. Her mother could rule Arendelle for a few more years while Anna prepared. Maybe then she would be married or at least start to feel ready for the responsibility.

She and her mother had talked—a few years had passed between their first conversation and this one At this point she likely knew more about her mom than her father ever did, than Elsa ever did. It was a process, digesting everything that her mother told her. She was half Northuldran, the same people that her grandfather had all but outlawed, the people that likely killed him, were in her blood.

“I know I don’t look it,” her mother often starts, almost like a disclaimer, although Anna would hardly know, there were few surviving illustrations of anything Northuldra that wasn’t a horrible caricature. “But I was born in the enchanted forest.” They had slowly been unraveling the complicated family history, bit by bit. She was honest when she said that she wanted to know everything, but everything took a while.

“Do the Northuldra speak the same language as us?”

“It’s similar but very different,” her mother struggles to articulate her mother tongue, it had been so long since she used it, “We use a lot of the same words but the language itself is pretty distinct, the writing system especially,” Iduna could remember some of the characters that used to be in her name but not much more.

“Could I understand it if I heard it?”

“Probably, it takes some getting used to but when I arrived in Arendelle I adapted to this language after only a few weeks,” it had been a long few weeks but she had gotten a handle on the language as fast as she could, it was essential for her survival. The orphanage that she had ended up in sent her to school and she wouldn’t be able to assimilate if she didn’t learn the language. Anna pulls her out of her musings with her next question.

“Do I have grandparents out there?” Anna had never had living grandparents, the idea was fascinating as mundane as it was.

“Maybe, I smuggled myself into Arendelle along with your father and never saw the outcome of the battle, they could be alive, or they may have perished along with so many others.”

“What were they like?” Anna tries to steer the conversation

“Loving, we had a simpler relationship than you and I have.” She doesn’t need any elaboration; royal families were fraught with layers and layers of symbolism and duty. Her parents loved her but there was always some strain between them; they couldn’t just love each other freely, they had to keep the rest of Arendelle in mind as well. It had lessened the more people they lost.

“No siblings?” As brief as her time with Elsa was, she couldn’t imagine a life without her. Some of her earliest memories were of Elsa comforting her, they flashback and forth between the version that the trolls gave her and the real version. Despite what the trolls last told her, her memories hadn’t come back to her, not exactly, but every now and then she’d get glimpses of what her life used to be like. She remembers the lightest sprinkle of snowflakes dancing across her nose. How much she had laughed at the feeling. How much she had loved the feeling. Elsa had loved her from the beginning and she barely knew her.

‘None, I always wanted a big family though.” Anna supposed that they were alike in this way, she wanted a big family, one without walls or duty standing in the way of love.

“Is four really that big?”

“No, but after everything I couldn’t bring another child into this world,” she smiles sadly, “You and Elsa were enough for me.” And that should make her feel better, but it doesn’t, it just serves to remind her that so many things had been stolen from all of them by fate.

Anna never knows what to say when her mother gets wistful like this.

“Your majesties? It’s time for the practice,” Kai interrupts their awkward silence.

“Thank you, Kai, we’ll be down in a moment,” her mother rises from her place and Anna follows her out of the room, their previous conversation over with.

“Kristoff said that he wanted to come by for this practice, I hope that’s okay,” Anna mentions it so late because it was far too late to say no. Kristoff had wanted to support her, and she wanted him there. The council always made her nervous during these practices, anyone in her corner was a blessing.

“Of course, Kristoff is always welcome,” her mother liked Kristoff, she’s sure that some of that is leftover from them conspiring to stop her marriage to Hans. (She’s thankful for their meddling but it’s a strange start to a relationship) Either way, she’s not sure whether that should make her happy or concerned.

They enter the royal cathedral, it wasn’t decorated yet, but it would be soon. Her birthday was only two weeks away. They had gone through the ceremony many times over the past month—it was a long boring ceremony that involved formal old Norse. Anna understood only the part where she had to respond in the affirmative.

“Queen Anna of Arendelle,” the bishop says, he’s not in his formal wear but still cuts an imposing figure, Anna care for him less and less as the practices went on.

Anna watches Kristoff mouth the words back and almost starts laughing right away.

“You can’t do that during the ceremony,” the bishop chastises her. Anna wants to retort that she _knows_ , but before she can the entire earth starts to shake.

“What is this?” Anna grips the scepter and orb tightly trying to not drop them as the earth shook beneath them.

“An earthquake!” Kristoff rushes from his seat to try and steady her.

The earth stops moving for a moment and Anna says through clenched teeth, “Is it over?” The earth seems to defy her at that moment, and everything starts shaking again. “We need to get out of here!” She drops the scepter and orb then; they were the least of her worries at this point.

“Agreed!” Kristoff yells as he helps guide her and her mother out of the church. The world shakes on and off its axis for too long. In the gaps they manage to leave the castle walls.

“We need to evacuate the city!” Anna yells as the earth threatens to shatter around them. Buildings seemed to sway around them, threatening to collapse on top of them.

“Call the guards and have them start evacuation procedures!” her mother yells, as they start towards the cliffs. They stop several times to usher the citizens out of their homes and eventually make it to the shelters on the cliffs.

The quakes finally stop altogether hours later. They had settled everyone as best they could, they had enough supplies to last a week or two, but they would need answers long before then.

“What was that?” Her mother asks rhetorically, sinking to the ground in a very unqueenly manner, it was several natural disasters at once. Several earthquakes and small windstorm had ravaged Arendelle while they were trying to evacuate.

“If I knew I would tell you,” Kristoff slumps on the ground and falls back on Sven’s back. Sven had been playing with the evacuated children to keep their minds off everything and was as tried as anyone. Anna collapses next to them, spent.

They stew trying to find some solution or reasoning for whatever just happened, but nothing comes and then things get worse.

“Oh god, what now?” Anna says as the ground rumbles beneath them. The day had already been so long and confusing, what else could happen?

“It’s the trolls,” Kristoff tries to assuage her worries, although it raises more questions than it answers. True to his word boulders roll down from the cliff and Anna hears the distant screams but that’s the least of her worries at this point. The boulders won’t hurt them, whatever is threatening Arendelle definitely will.

“Kristoff!” Bulda, Anna recognizes the voice, calls from the mass of boulders, “Where have you been? We’ve missed you!” Anna watches Kristoff try to shake off the various boulders that jump at him and can’t help but laugh.

She and her mother walk up to Grand Pabbie, if anyone had any answers it would be him. Maybe answers is the wrong word, but hopefully they would get something out of it. Pabbie liked to speak in riddles that only gave the vaguest of answers. Anna can’t say she trusts him but its not like she had much of a choice.

“Something has upset the balance of the world; someone has awakened the spirits of the enchanted forest and balance needs to be restored.”

“What do you mean?” Anna makes a mental note to ask Kristoff how he managed to learn anything with Grand Pabbie expositions.

“What do you see?” Kristoff asks, knowing the leader’s tendencies, having shaken his siblings from their perches.

“Old wounds are reopening, the truth is not what it seems, Arendelle is not safe, the truth must be found, or I see no future in Arendelle.”

Anna understands that loud and clear. “What can we do?”

“You need to find a place for Arendelle in the future, or do the next right thing,” Pabbie says.

“What does that include?” Anna looks between the troll and her mother, hoping that someone knows what’s going on. The pause is long and awkward, the fate of Arendelle hanging in the balance.

“We need to head north and find a way to through the mist,” her mother says suddenly, without a shred of doubt.

“Really?” Anna isn’t so much incredulous as she is confused; the plan was fully formed and either crazy or surprisingly succinct. Whichever turned out to be true, Anna definitely couldn’t come up with something better.

“It must be the spirits of the forest, something’s upset them if we can find them maybe we can find a way to stop this,” her mother paces, still thinking about how they would even start.

“Kristoff, can you ready a wagon by morning?” Anna stands too, addresses Kristoff and Sven directly, and when Kristoff nods in the affirmative and the decision is made.

-

Their first night together all they did was sleep and Maren is fine with that. (Really it wasn’t their first night together, they had lived together for years at this point) They had danced the entire night and kissed enough to make Ryder complain nonstop to their faces the next day.

Maren can’t find it in herself to be irritated though. She can muster the feeling for her guardian though.

Yelena had given them the ‘talk’ sometime soon after they turned thirteen. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation, but everything needed to be said. After she and Elsa officially unofficially started courting, she thought they needed a refresher. It was the second time that she had given them this talk, actually. She had given it to them back when they were just hitting puberty and thought it apropos to give it to them again. Even if there wasn’t much of a risk with them. It was longer this time and much more graphic.

“Yelena please stop, we’ve heard all of this before,” Honeymaren uses her hat to cover her face, getting this speech once was bad enough—twice was hellish, the only upside of this time was that, at least this time, Ryder wasn’t also present. Elsa sat in stony silence at the repeat performance, avoiding all eye contact and trying to pretend that she couldn’t hear anything.

“I just want you to be prepared, the more you know the better you’ll be able to make a decision,” Yelena likely already knew what they were doing, and now was just trying to assuage any worries she had. (Which, to be fair, sex had come quickly after they started kissing. Maren will admit that not to Yelena though, not out loud)

“We know! Please just stop telling us about this!” Maren yells through gritted teeth, she was on the verge of banging her head against the ground, she hated the moments when Yelena acted too much like her mother. She had a mother. _Had_ a mother, that was still a sore spot between the two of them. Her mother and father, along with a handful of others, had both disappeared looking for a way out of the mist. They never found them, and she and Ryder had been left without parents and Yelena without a brother.

“I know that I’m not your mother,” she says, reading Maren’s mind, “but I just want you to be happy, _both_ of you,” she tacks on even though Elsa was spacing out for most of the conversation, trying to avoid eavesdropping on a private and fraught conversation.

“We know,” Elsa says suddenly, snapping out of her trance, apparently listening enough to respond, “and thank you.” Yelena lets them go after that.

Other than that, their courtship was going well.

The Northuldra writing system was complicated. There wasn’t an explicit alphabet, every little thing had its own sigil and Elsa still didn’t know enough to read much of anything. She had kept up with her lessons well but reading and writing the language was never that important as much of the Northuldra traditions were oral. It was important now though, so Elsa had to catch up.

Yelena only explains it after she asks several times but couples who planned to marry; the word in Arendellian was _engaged_ , the word in Northuldra was _promised_ , there wasn’t much difference semantically, but the word choice was still telling. The couple would make a new symbol together to represent their union. If any children resulted from said union, they would take that symbol until they married. It wasn’t dissimilar to a surname, but there was more riding on this.

She and Maren had stared to talk about promising a few years into their courtship. It was auspicious at first and practical later. They had liked each other so much that everything else went out the window as soon as they were actually together. They were already living together long before they were romantically involved so it was easy to get carried away once they were. That was a nice way of putting it, Elsa thinks. (Elsa had never had the misfortune of enduring Arendelle sex education, but she doubted that she would have learned anything useful in it. That was funny at least)

Elsa tries to make the symbol by herself and fails quickly. She didn’t know how to connect the symbols or what would even make a good mark.

“I don’t know how to do this!” Elsa yells in exasperation, she had written out a bunch of different symbols that seemed like they would mean something to them as a couple. 

“I can’t believe that you tried to pair reindeer and ice.”

Elsa will admit that the sign looked ridiculous once she put the two together, but she still felt the need to defend her choice, “As I said earlier, I don’t know how to do this,” Elsa is incredulous.

Maren can’t help but laugh at this, “I know, I’m sorry about laughing,” she says this, still giggling, Elsa pouts, “We can pick something out together,” Elsa relishes in the warm smile she gives her.

They stay engaged for years. There wasn’t any pressure to officially tie the knot, they were already living together, and it wasn’t like they could get pregnant or anything. The idea of everyone knowing their business was mortifying but it kept everyone off their backs for other reasons. So, Elsa keeps her mouth shut with little reluctance.

In the months before her 25th birthday, Elsa stops sleeping. Every time she tries to drift off a voice wakes her. The voice was familiar, and it takes her longer than she’d like to admit to remember, but it’s the same voice that called her to the forest in the first place. The discordant notes that the voice liked to sing kept her up at all hours of the night.

Elsa felt like she was being tortured by someone who didn’t know what they were doing. The moments of sleep that she could catch were often during the day in the most inconvenient times possible. Elsa had managed to doze off during a tribe meeting, and the results had not been great.

“Elsa are you okay?” Honeymaren asks early on during the many sleepless nights that she learns to live with, having been given no choice.

“No,” Elsa says plainly, the bags under her eyes were only growing more prominent, she was tired all the time. “But I don’t know how to stop it,” Maren took to staying up with her whenever she could but often fell asleep long before Elsa’s exhaustion broke her. Elsa didn’t have the heart to wake her.

The voices calling out to her had only gotten louder. Elsa tried to ignore them at first, and they did not take kindly to being ignored. She rarely slept, every moment she tried to drift off the spirits would start their song again, louder.

One night it becomes too much, she untangles herself from Honeymaren’s grasp and walks further from the settlement and lets her powers loose. Frozen fractals dance around her in shapes that she knows well, earth giants, Gale the wind spirit, the fire spirit Bruni, and elusive water horse. Images that seem so real they’re almost like memories, fly past her. Her powers had, even in their worse moments, bent to her will—now they ran free and this was the result. She marvels at the sight, the beauty unrivaled by anything she had created previously. The siren calls out to her even louder begging for her to just let go, and she finally does.

There’s a shift in the air that’s impossible to miss, almost like the sky cracks for a moment and then it’s gone, replaced by countless ice diamonds suspended in the air. Glowing steadily against the night sky.

“Elsa are you okay?” Honeymaren had woken when she noticed the pervasive chill in the air and empty space beside her. She wrapped in some loose furs warming herself against her love’s chill.

“Someone’s here,” Elsa’s not sure what she means by this, but she knows that it’s true. The diamonds that she conjured without thinking hadn’t dissipated, she recognized the symbols as the traditional sigils for the four elemental spirits. She touches one and watches its form flicker before restabilizing.

“What did you do?” Honeymaren doesn’t accuse her of anything, they had been through too much for that.

“I’m not sure, the spirits were calling out to me and I answered,” Elsa turns to her fully and Honeymaren sees the forlorn look strewn across her lover’s face. She closes the distance between them and cups her face gently.

“What does it mean?”

“Something’s coming for me. There’s something or someone looking for me and it’s getting closer.” Elsa wants to say more but they both hear the sound of the horn too clearly. “Is that?”

“Yes, I have to go, the scouts have found something that they need a backup for.”

“I’m coming with you,”

Ordinarily, Maren would argue with her, but Elsa had caused at least some of this, so she relents, “Fine, get dressed and we’ll head out,” Elsa waves her hand and her sleeping clothes morph into an ice outfit suitable for a trek in the woods. “I keep forgetting you can do that,” she laughs exasperatedly. Pulling Elsa’s hand in her own as they rush off to find the rest of the search party.

Elsa’s braid is tickled by a strong gust of wind and she pauses their movement for a moment. Listening to the words of the wind. “We need to head towards the mist, something’s happened,” Elsa grabs her hand and guides them in the direction that they needed to go.

They reach the crowd gathered just on the edge of the mist.

“Stay here,” Maren instructs before pushing her way through the crowd to see what the fuss was about.

In the clearing, on the very edge of the mist, was a group of strangers. Two women, a man and a reindeer. Maren had never seen these people in her life. Which was strange enough, even the people that she didn’t know well held some familiarity to her and her them. She knew the Arendellian soldiers even if she had barely seen them. She didn’t know these people, but they were familiar to her somehow.

“What was that?” The younger woman says out loud, as confused as the rest of them were. The shock of red hair on her head is strange, but the rest of the girl isn’t. There was something that she knew she knew about the girl. The way she stood, the way she clutched her hands, something was there.

“I don’t know,” the man of the group said in a similar state of confusion. Maren definitely didn’t know him.

There was a long pause where each side debated about what to do with the other. Finally, Yelena, having made it to the scene, asks “Who are you?”

“Queen Induna and Princess Anna of Arendelle,” the older of the two women says. Maren sees the resemblance between mother and daughter, in the shape of the face and the light dusting of freckles across the cheeks. And it is then that Maren knows she’s seen those features before, and she rushes back to Elsa.

“Where did you come from? How did you make it through the mist?” Maren hears Yelena ask as she pushes past the crowd once again to get back to Elsa.

“Arendelle?” Maren didn’t need to hear the answer to know that Elsa needed to see this with her own two eyes.

“What is it?” Elsa had been waiting at the back of the crowd, effectively hidden from view of their visitors and visa versa.

“You need to see this,” Maren says rather than explaining, seeing it for herself would make more sense. Grabbing her hand and shoving their way through the crowd, landing at the feet of their visitors.

Elsa has only a moment to catch her breath before allowing herself to look up. She had heard the announcement that the visitors were from Arendelle. The voice had been far away, but now hearing it up close she knew it. She raises her head.

“Mother?” Elsa forgets how to breathe staring at the vision of her mother.

“Elsa?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	8. a tight-knit family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything comes together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a long-ish update, I'm trying to keep them semi-regular but, again, no promises. This chapter made it easier by being fun to write.

Iduna remembered the path to the enchanted forest too well for someone who never visited. It was a long a winding road that over two days with a wagon. Luckily, the first time that she made the journey a wagon had been left on the other side of the mist. She and Agnarr had fled with a handful of others who made it out of the mist. Agnarr hadn’t woken the whole journey back and he had been spirited away back to the palace and Iduna to an orphanage the moment they got back.

The stories of what happened spread from those who made it back. Iduna had seen some of it with her own two eyes but

Iduna remembers how strange the journey was the first time. This time was no less daunting but for different reasons. They drove over huge chasms, passed the north mountain, and finally they traveled through the mountain pass and watched as it opened up to a large empty field. They were here.

“Kristoff stop the wagon,” Iduna jumps out before it even comes to a full stop. Rushing up to the wall of mist. She remembers the feeling of the mist around her hand, it wasn’t like fog or normal mist, there wasn’t the light feeling of water hanging in the air—the only thing hanging in the air was magic and it was heavy. She reaches her hand out again just to be sure.

“What is that?” Anna hops out from the passenger seat to follow her, Kristoff following after unhitching Sven from the wagon.

“The mist,” Iduna had snuck off maybe once or twice to see it for herself. It had been hard to sneak away for the days on end required to make it all the way here, but she managed. She had to be sure that it still stood. Up close it was proof that she was forever cut off from her home. From afar, with years between then and now, she’s still amazed at the sheer magnitude of the barrier.

“How do we get through it?” Anna follows her to the edge of the mist.

“I don’t know,” Iduna says, she had tried the time she had been able to come up alone, walking into the mist would just cause it to spit you back out. She guessed that the people still on the inside had tried the same thing and gotten the same results.

Sven, ever the curious creature, tries walking directly into the mist only to be spat out. “What are our options here?” Kristoff questions, helping right Sven after his tumble.

“The spirits have all but called us here, they have to have a way to get us inside,” Iduna ponders watching Anna with caution as she reached out her own hand. Something in the air shifts, the air seems to crackle with magic, and the hand reaching out to the mist isn’t stopped, it goes right through. “What?” Anna quickly exclaims before the mist starts to swallow her.

“Anna!” She and Kristoff shout at the same time. They have only a moment of panic before the mist extends its reach and a strong gust of wind starts to push them through the mist.

The tunnel that had granted them access through the mist closes just as quickly behind them and they’re trapped.

The forest has changed so much and not at all since she last saw it. Trees that were only saplings now stood as tall and proud as could be. She looks up to see the sky, it was always more beautiful than the one in Arendelle and is greeted instead with only the barest of light of the sunrise permeating the mist. “So much has changed,” she says loud, just to articulate her thoughts.

“Where do we go from here?” Anna asks, noting her bewildered expression.

A horn sounds in the distance and she knows that any decision they would have made doesn’t matter, “Scouts are coming for us, we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Are they friendly?”

“Hopefully,” she says just in time for the first group to find them. They hold up their weapons to stop them from trying to escape and one of them sounds another horn to alert the other search parties. Iduna recognizes the clothes of the Northuldra, styles had changed slightly over time, but the leathers and furs still held the same traditions behind them.

Their would-be captors don’t exactly know what to do with them, so they just wait, weapons drawn, for the other search parties to arrive. After they’re nearly surrounded an older woman finally passes through the crowd and asks, “Who are you?” breaking the long silence that had permeated the space. She was the chief, Iduna realizes belatedly, noting the intricately carved staff that she wielded.

“Queen Iduna and Princess Anna of Arendelle,” Iduna says, remembering enough Northuldra to understand it but not enough to respond in kind.

Murmurs spread throughout the small crowd. She noticed a rustle in the crowd as one scout pushed to the front to see the commotion, “Arendelle?” The young woman says, breathlessly, in Arendellian and maybe that’s why Iduna hears it so clearly over all the murmuring. She gives them the up and down for a moment before hastily stepping back and rushing to the back of the crowd. Iduna loses track of her for a long moment.

“Where did you come from? How did you make it through the mist?” The Chief asks, eyeing them suspiciously.

“We’re from Arendelle, and I don’t know the mist just opened up to us,” Iduna tries to remember the way Northuldra felt on her tongue, but it comes out clunky and strange.

“Why have you come here?” The other woman notices her dialect switch but chooses not to comment on it.

“We’re on a mission to save our kingdom,” Anna interjects, “The spirits of the enchanted forest have attacked Arendelle and we need to find a way to stop them.”

“Why did you think that coming here would help?”

“Your people commune with the spirits, we were hoping that you would be able to help us,” before the chief can respond in what Iduna assumes is the negative the crowd shuffles again, drawing her eyes, as the woman reappears clutching the hand of another, having shoved their way through the crowd once again. Iduna doesn’t spare them a second glance until she hears a word in a voice she had almost forgotten.

“Mother?” She turns to stare fully at a ghost.

“Elsa?” The words leave her mouth before she’s even sure that the vision in front of her is real. Iduna doesn’t understand the image she sees before her. Her long-dead daughter, alive, living amongst her people all this time. Elsa is different, not just older, she stands confidently, more alive, both literally and figuratively, than she’s seen her in years. She’s dressed in a thin blue jacket and pants that cling to her form, _ice_ , she realizes belatedly. Her feet bare and hand still clutched in that of the Northuldra scout who brought her to the front.

Anna and the Chief had still been talking when they had their realization. “We don’t know, one moment the mist was impenetrable the next it was well _penetrable_ ,” Anna tries to explain but her words fall flat, “Something in the air changed and all of a sudden we could pass through,” she stops suddenly, having noticed the dead silence that permeated the space to look at her, and by extension, Elsa.

“Elsa? Is that you?” Anna takes a step forward, bolder either of them, and reaches out to touch Elsa’s arm, afraid that it was nothing more than an illusion. Upon feeling the tangible flesh beneath her touch, she launches herself at her _sister_ in a bone-crushing hug. Elsa is stiff as a board as Anna rocks them side to side. She pulls away to put both her hands on her _sister’s_ face to get a good look at her, “It really is you, Elsa,” Anna says as her shoulders sag in relief she didn’t think possible and starts to sob. Her memories finally righting themselves. 

“Anna?” Elsa manages out finally, reaching her arms out to return the hug.

“Elsa, are these people really …?” The chief starts, but doesn’t finish, Iduna watches a silent conversation pass between the two of them before Elsa replies, still holding Anna upright though her tears.

“Yes Yelena, they’re my family,” Anna sobs even louder and Iduna can’t stop her tears from flowing then.

The walk back to the village is long. It took some time for Anna to finally let go of Elsa so they could be escorted back to the village. Anna had worn herself out crying and was currently dozing on Sven under Kristoff’s watchful eye. Iduna almost wanted to join her but there were far more pressing matters to attend to. Elsa was walking towards the back of their makeshift caravan and Iduna easily falls into step beside Elsa but doesn’t find the words that she wants to say. The woman she was with catches Elsa’s eye for a long moment and falls behind them, Iduna can feel her eyes watching her.

“So, you’re Northuldran?” Elsa says in Arendellian. Her voice is deeper than she thought it would be. Elsa is a lot of things that she never expected an older version of her daughter to be. _Alive_ is probably the biggest. She’s taller than her, even barefoot, she’d almost be as tall as her father. Her hair had never darkened to a more normal shade of blonde, it anything it looked even whiter now. Elsa doesn’t accuse her, Anna would have, or did rather. Anna knew now so at least she didn’t have both her children mad at her about that. (Some part of her is ecstatic at the mere idea that both her children were alive to be mad at her)

“Yes, I am … we are,” she had never told Agnarr of her history and she had only told Anna recently, the truth had a way of spilling out one way or another. Elsa likely knew both dialects now, she had caught her switch to Northuldra.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Despite the warmth, she had shown her sister earlier Elsa is cold now. Iduna doesn’t know what changed but she needed to.

“It’s a long story,” Iduna almost wants to laugh. She almost wants to cry.

“So is how I came to the forest,” Elsa snaps back, she’s still not harsh but the her tone betrays her lack of investment.

“Will you tell me?” Iduna slows her pace to try and put some space between her, her daughter, and the rest of the search party. She still feels the eyes on her back.

“Will you tell me?” Elsa repeats back to her.

Remembering the paths that she used to walk back to the village Iduna decides on the short version, “When Arendelle first came to the forest I was living here in the Enchanted forest, during the battle I was separated from my family and ended up rescuing your father from harm and bringing him back to Arendelle, where I eventually married and had you and Anna,” Elsa searches her face for a long time, not commenting on her story.

“What do you know about my disappearance?”

Iduna doesn’t recognize the question immediately, “Your father said that he was attacked by bandits and that they kidnapped you.” Elsa’s face doesn’t betray anything as she tells the story she was told. “We sent out search party after search party to find you, but they never found anything, we were all so worried, your father was beside himself with grief,” at that she feels the temperature drop.

“Father was worried?” Elsa says slowly, articulating every syllable, stopping them in their tracks. She looks her daughter in the eyes and sees nothing but barely contained fury.

“Of course! Both of us had no idea what happened to you and were sick with grief,” Iduna tries to explain but the leaves on the trees around them start to frost over at her daughter’s indignation.

“My _Father_ was the one who abandoned me!” Elsa stares intently at her face, watching every face she makes for a hint of treason. “He took me into the woods to kill me, and abandoned me to starve when that didn’t work out,” Elsa doesn’t scream or yell, her voice is so low that it’s barely heard over the sound of the leaves crashing to the ground, too heavy with frost. It chills her to her core. Iduna heard the unspoken question loud and clear then: _How much of this did you know? Were you in on it?_ Her mind is reeling from the revelation that she can’t think of an articulate response. Elsa starts walking again and she hurries to catch up with her.

“Elsa…” she says finally, not knowing where to start. Elsa didn’t even know that Agnarr was dead. She wants to hold her daughter and tell that she had no idea, that she’s sorry for whatever Agnarr did but the words don’t come. Her husband, her partner, her best friend had tried to kill their daughter in cold blood. The look on her daughter’s face tells her that saying nothing was worse than saying something wrong.

The party reaches the outskirts of the village and Elsa stops her before she can join the rest of the party at a fire towards the center of the village.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Elsa doesn’t shut her down completely, but she still shuts her out. “What sign did you see when you did your coming of age trial?” Elsa says plainly in Northuldra, Iduna understands this easily, Elsa’s curiosity outweighs her apprehension and the battle wages plainly across her face. Her baby had grown up without her.

“Water,” It had been so long ago she almost didn’t remember—the mark painted onto her skin that foretold her a life of as a healer. Before setting off she had hoped that the wind spirit would speak to her; she hoped to visit and learn more about Arendellian culture (the irony is not lost on her).

Iduna knows that the conversation is over, Elsa has withdrawn from their discussion and is looking for a way out, she sees her daughter sneak a glance at the Northuldra woman who had been watching their entire conversation, watching her, “What about you?” She asks in her clumsy Northuldra. She should know this about her child; she never thought about making Anna participate in the trial, it would raise too many questions. But she saw the water spirit in Anna.

“The spirits never spoke to me, but I told the elders that I saw the water spirit,” Elsa turns away from her then, signaling briefly to her friend before retreating to her goahti. Iduna has nothing that she can say, so she lets her daughter walk away. Her heart aches in a new way.

-

Anna was still reeling from the revelation that her sister was not only _alive_ but standing a few feet away. And refusing to talk to her, refuse was maybe the wrong word, Elsa had rebuffed her offers of conversation quickly, citing her own tiredness. Anna had had a nice nap on Sven so she had more than enough energy, but Elsa looked drained, so she doesn’t push the issue as much as she would like, there was tomorrow now. She and Elsa had hundreds of thousands of tomorrows now to rebuild their relationship.

Due to this, she decides to refocus on the woman that her sister had bid goodnight to with a kiss. Anna had seen her lean in close to the other woman and tell her that she was going to take a rest in their shared tent. Well maybe she didn’t _hear_ those words exactly, but she was very good at reading lips.

“We haven’t been officially introduced but I’m Anna, Elsa’s younger sister,” Anna offers her hand and the other woman takes it tentatively.

“Honeymaren Nattura,” Honeymaren replies in Arendellian.

“Did Elsa teach you how to speak Arendellian?” Anna, forgetting her original mission, asks.

“Yes, my brother Ryder and I are the main ones who speak it fluently thanks to her, but a lot of the other children have picked up some words as well,” Elsa had a good working memory of the language she no longer spoke regularly, it was their secret language for a long time until they realized that Yelena retained some from the old failed peace treaties.

“So, what are you and Elsa… exactly?” She remembers her mission and asks Honeymaren quickly, she wasn’t getting anything out of her sister tonight so hopefully, she could get something out of her friend.

“We’ve known each other since we were children,” Honeymaren is quite caught off guard but answers the question nonetheless, “Recently we became officially promised,” she adds on as an afterthought.

“Promised for…?” Anna trials off, she might have known this term, but her nap hadn’t helped her nearly as much as she thought, and her brain wasn’t up to looking up obscure meanings to words.

“Each other,” Elsa had only known so much of Arendellian marriage customs when she came to the forest, so thus, Honeymaren didn’t really know what was commonplace and what Anna would actually know, “I think the word is engaged, we want to get married eventually,” Honeymaren can’t help the look of shock that crosses her face as Anna squeals in delight.

“Oh my God! That’s so exciting! What are Northuldra weddings like?”

Honeymaren is shocked into silence and can barely force out “Long, three days at least,” she and Elsa hadn’t really planned out much or any part of the wedding yet, they knew they wanted to get married and that was as far as they got.

Anna pauses for a moment before a question bursts out of her before she can think about it, “Are you and Elsa allowed to get married here?”

Honeymaren isn’t offended, having lived with Elsa for years now, she had discerned a lot about how Arendelle treated some of its citizens, “Yes, we are,” she rolls up her right sleeve to show Anna the mark that she and Elsa had finally decided on. Four diamonds etched in ice ran up her wrist to her elbow. The ice was cool to the touch but never cold. She had marked Elsa with ink, but Elsa had chosen to put her own spin on this tradition. She notices Anna’s curiosity and allows her to touch it.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s a symbol of our devotion to each other, that we’ve made a promise to each other.” She doesn’t elaborate on the meanings of the symbols they’ve chosen; Elsa could do that later. Remembering Anna’s discussion with Yelena earlier at the mist she asks, “How much do you know about Northuldra lore?”

“Not much, my mother just told me that I was half-Northuldra a few years ago and I can never get too much out of her in a single conversation,” Anna explains, and Honeymaren giggles for a second.

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just, your mother sounds a lot like Elsa, when she doesn’t want to talk about something, she’ll avoid it for as long as possible,” Anna laughs too at this. “It took her two years to realize and confess that she had feelings for me,” Anna bursts out laughing then and takes a long while to stop.

“Can you tell me about the spirits of the forest?” Anna asks finally after she’s managed to stop giggling.

Honeymaren nods and gestures to the scarf she had seen Anna show briefly to Yelena. “May I?” Anna nods. “There are four elemental spirits that guard the enchanted forest, water, earth, fire, and air,” she goes around the diamonds on the scarf stopping at the point in the center, “There have always been stories, and most of us thought that they were just stories, of a fifth spirit that will help bring harmony between humans and spirits,” Honeymaren points to the exact center of her mother’s shawl. Anna sees only a small diamond but the way that the other woman says it fills her with conviction.

“And you think that they’ll have the answers to save Arendelle?”

“Yes, and not just Arendelle, all of us,” she takes a deep breath, “Ryder and I, a lot of the people living in the forest have never seen the sky, I believe that the fifth spirit will restore what we’ve lost.”

“How do we find it?”

“Elsa has been hearing a voice calling out to her, I think that’s why you were able to enter the mist, she’s always been connected to the spirits and now they’re calling out to her.”

“Will that be enough?”

“Only Ahtohallen knows.”

-

The next morning Elsa wanders out of her goahti and bumps right into Kristoff. She had only seen him in her periphery the night before, she barely remembered his name, but he was probably related to her somehow. That’s how things were going at least.

“Hi, I’m Kristoff, I don’t think we’ve really had time to get acquainted, I’m Anna’s boyfriend,” he offers her his hand before turning it into an awkward wave instead.

“Oh, okay,” Elsa has no idea what this has to do with her, she just met her sister again, was she going to meet every suitor she ever had?

“See, I’m planning on proposing to Anna soon and I wanted to get your permission to propose,” the whole sentence comes out as a garbled bundle of nerves and Elsa struggles to keep it all straight, “I already asked your mother for permission and she said yes, and I didn’t know that you were alive so, I didn’t know to ask you, but you are! So I am!” He gesticulates wildly at the last utterance, and Elsa thinks that he might be on the edge of a breakdown. Strangely enough, it reminds her a lot of Ryder.

“Why would my opinion matter to you?” And she doesn’t mean to sound harsh, but she honestly doesn’t know how she would be remotely involved in this, “I haven’t seen Anna in like eighteen years, she didn’t know I was even alive until a few hours ago, my opinion, and my blessing for your relationship don’t matter at all.” Elsa thought about Anna often growing up, she guessed how tall she would be, what kind of books she would read, how her personality would change over time; but she had never considered what her suitors would be like. “Kristoff, you love my sister, right?” He can only nod dumbly in response, “And she loves you, right?” He nods again, with a little more conviction, his reindeer companion does as well, “That should be enough, both of you should trust in that and each other.” Elsa would never call herself a love expert, but he needed help.

“How did you two meet?” Elsa had no idea how to proceed.

“It’s a long story,” Kristoff shrugs.

“I’ve heard too many of those recently, what’s the shorter version?”

“Well we first met when she was like eighteen and I was twenty and she ran away from home and blackmailed me into taking her to see the trolls. So, I did, and then she didn’t want to go home so we ended up hanging out at my ice fishing cabin for a week or so, eventually she decided to go home,” Kristoff takes a deep breath and Elsa guesses that some time passes, “On her eighteenth birthday Anna had this big coming of age ceremony where a bunch of other kingdoms were invited, and this one prince Hans proposed to her the day he met her, and she said yes,” Elsa quirks her eyebrow and Kristoff elaborates, “she said yes because, well I don’t know really, you should ask her, but she said yes and it was all a scheme for this Hans guy to take the throne by poisoning your mother, but she and I figured out the scheme and at some point, Anna punched him in the face,” Kristoff is red in the face, not only blushing but also out of air.

“Okay, that’s too much, what’s the longer version?”

“I don’t know if I can tell you the long version without passing out,” he admits and Elsa finds herself liking him.

“How did you and her meet?” He gestures to Honeymaren coming out of their tent.

“We’ve known each other since we were children, I didn’t realize I had feelings for her until I was much older though and it took even longer for me to admit it out loud.”

“How did you propose? Or did she propose?”

“Neither of us really proposed, we just kind of decided to get married.”

“And that worked?”

“I’m currently engaged, so yes,” Elsa laughs good-naturedly. “I’m sure whatever you do Anna will love,” she pauses for a moment before she ruffles his hair through his hat in a show of affection she usually reserves for Ryder.

“Thanks Elsa, for everything,” he fidgets at the gesture but smiles all the same.

-

Elsa was still processing; she spent the whole day avoiding her mother and sister. She did this a few different ways, as soon as her conversation with Kristoff was done, she went as deep into the woods as she could and didn’t come back out until dinner. (Kristoff was manageable territory; she wasn’t related to him and she didn’t have a relationship with him before her attempted murder) She converses with Bruni and Gale, or tries to, neither of them can talk but every now and they have the same level of wordless understanding that she and Maren have. Gale and Bruni don’t say anything but try and push her further north, which means something. She would have to tell her mother and Anna.

Elsa had no idea how to handle this. She had pushed her thoughts of her family to the back of her mind for the longest time. She had to keep moving or she would be stuck in the past forever. Now the past was at her doorstep and she had to face it.

All that fear and self-loathing that she though herself long past bubble up for longer she’d admit. She needed the time alone just to get herself together. She’s in control of her powers now, there’s no way she could hurt Anna again. She needed to speak to her mother, really speak to her. She needed answers. She decides to head back to the village. She’s greeted immediately by Anna.

“Hi Elsa, I didn’t see you around today, mom and Yelena showed me around the village, and we ran into Honeymaren who hadn’t seen you today,” Anna is excited as ever to see her and Elsa already feels guilty.

“I was in the woods today; I was trying to see if the spirits could tell me what we could do,” that part was true, the other part was that she had to prepare to talk to her family again. She didn’t want to freeze them out again, pun not intended.

“Did they know anything?”

“Well they don’t speak, but they wanted me to head north, I think that’s our best bet for finding a solution.”

“Is that where the fifth spirit is?”

“Have you been talking to Maren?” Elsa wants to laugh, not much but a little bit. Maren had been the one to tell her the story of the fifth spirit, Elsa could never tell whether to take the story at face value or not. Back in Arendelle they had all sorts of old wives tales about odd creatures or figures.

“You call her Maren, that’s so cute, Kristoff and I don’t have pet names for each other,” Anna gushes, she could finally talk about her boyfriend with someone who wouldn’t immediately judge her choices.

“It’s not a pet name it’s just a shorthand of her name,” Elsa crosses her arms, indignant and Anna laughs at her then.

“Oh, do you want to play charades tonight?” Anna asks suddenly, “Mom, Kristoff and I always do game nights every Friday.”

“Charades?”

“It’s a family game, but we don’t have even teams so we usually let Kai or Gerda play too, we tried Sven once, but he can’t read so it didn’t work out,” sensing Elsa’s ongoing confusion Anna elaborates, “You read different slips of paper and try to guess what the other person is saying based on their acting.”

“What about father? Wouldn’t he even out the teams?”

Anna’s face falls at the realization that Elsa doesn’t know. _Why would she?_ She watches Elsa watch her face and sees the exact moment that realization hits her.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Elsa asks quietly, already sure that it’s true.

“Father passes away around six years ago,” Anna says just as quietly. Elsa and their father had been close, she expected a more visceral reaction.

“How did he die?”

“Shipwreck we assume, he went on what was supposed to be a short voyage and never came back,” Anna had worked through her grief over the years, but Elsa had just learned it.

Elsa had no fantasies of seeing her father again and reconciling with him or the inverse. The satisfaction of seeing her father regret what he did to her was also lost on her. She had loved her father a long time ago, the feeling was lost over time, but the origin hadn’t changed. She had no idea how to feel about her father, he had been her hero for too long, and her villain for just as long. Closure wasn’t an option before this, and it wasn’t an option now. She didn’t have the choice before, and she didn’t now, nothing had changed.

Elsa doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything, and instead leads the two of them to a campfire for dinner. She and her mother exchange terse glances but say nothing. Ryder and Kristoff seem to be getting along famously which is another point in his favor.

“So… Charades?” Anna asks the terse group; Elsa pleads with Maren to get her out of this somehow but the look she gets tells her that she needed to face this. Which she did, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to.

“It _is_ Friday,” mother says, and Elsa hasn’t known her for a long time, but she seems torn somewhere between reluctant and excited, following Anna to where she had set up the game. Elsa follows apprehensively.

“Ok how about me and Kristoff on one team and you and mom on the other?” Anna suggests pulling a hat she had prepared previously for the game—Elsa had no idea how she had prepared this, but Anna at five could make friends anywhere; Anna at, Elsa does the math, 21, could bond with anyone anywhere. Enough to find the materials for a legitimate game of charades.

“Sure, sounds good,” Kristoff agrees readily, Elsa wonders if he’s the type of partner that always agrees with his wife. The thought is funnier than the idea of having to participate in this game.

Anna and Kristoff manage to get two correct, but Kristoff gets stuck on Anna wildly gesticulating the word villain. Elsa wouldn’t have been able to guess it on a good day, let alone a day like today. Anna had agreed to marry someone after knowing them for a few hours who turned out to be a power-hungry monster, so maybe her gestures make more sense to someone who knows more about her.

“So, who’s going first?” Anna and Kristoff chide each other, in their own little world, before remembering that there was still a game going on.

She and her mother exchange a long look that doesn’t mean anything and eventually Elsa decides to volunteer to go first. She pulls the word _Ice_ and tries to mimic the way she summons her powers. Small flurries appear at the mere gesture.

“No powers Elsa! All you have is your acting abilities!” Anna yells from the sidelines. Anna’s excitement is palpable, and Elsa can’t deny her anything. So, Elsa stops abruptly and tries to think of another way to illustrate ice. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the siren. The voice had quieted since her family had entered the enchanted forest, but in this moment, it was back full force. It calls her north.

“It’s ice, Anna! Elsa just pick another word,” her mother’s voice snaps out of her trance. Elsa doubts that this will be a point in their favor, but she gives up and picks another piece of paper. This one reads _family_ and Elsa freezes. Not because of the voice, because she had no idea how to define this anymore.

She wants to just point at her mother and sister, that would be easiest, given the circumstances and the parameters of the game. But it wasn’t true, not completely. The Northuldra had given her a home when she had nowhere else to go. Yelena had been her guide through her long and tumultuous years in puberty. Ryder and Honeymaren had become her family as well. Arendelle had been her home and her cage. Her parents had given her life and loved her from the start. They had also locked her in a room for years with no end in sight. One, maybe both, had tried to have her killed. Anna was her sister, the only person in the world who knew everything and nothing about her life. She and Anna had shared everything, and yet they had grown up in completely different ways. She had a family, she had two families, she had everything and nothing she had ever wanted in her life. She wanted more.

Instead of saying any of this, she just stands there, completely still. She had no way of articulating any of this. It was too much to tell anyone, let alone during a game.

“Nothing? Frozen? Oblivious? Elsa, you have to give me something,” her mother was competitive, she can see where Anna got some of her competitive spirit from. (It wasn’t all their mother; father had been endlessly competitive with the siblings that had never even made it into this world. Elsa can’t help but wonder how many people knew this or if it was another one of his secrets that he forced her to keep)

“Elsa, it’s just a game,” it wasn’t though, “just try and it’ll be fine,” Anna reassures her, and Elsa feels even guiltier. Anna shouldn’t have to protect her older sister from the harsh reality of life. She should be doing that for her, she should be able to do more for her sister.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this,” Elsa says abruptly, panic finally evident on her face, “I just need … I need some space,” she says finally before rushing off back to her goahti without another word. Honeymaren greets her at the door.

“Why did you make me do that alone?” Elsa asks, practically falling into the other woman’s arms, although she already knows the answer. She wants to be angry; she wants to blame Maren for everything, but she had nothing to do with this. This wasn’t really anyone’s fault, not even her own. 

“You needed to learn to set your own boundaries, everything and everyone here is new territory, you need to be able to make decisions for you and only you.”

“You sound like Yelena,” Elsa hates how right Maren is, she hadn’t been crying but she feels the same emotional exhaustion that usually accompanies it. “What about you?”

“I can deal with you being selfish for the first time as long as it means that you’re actually being considerate of yourself,” Maren pushes her down on their bedroll and Elsa lets herself be held. Feather-light kisses collect on her shoulder as contemplates her next words.

“The voice called out to me again, I thought it was just trying to reunite my family but there’s something else out there.”

“Did you actually speak with the spirits today or were you just avoiding your family?”

“Both actually, Bruni and Gale both tried to get me to follow them north, and when the voice called me it was guiding me north too,” Elsa turns to face Maren pressing a hard kiss to the base of the other woman’s neck. “I’m not ready to talk about everything but I keep having to,” Anna and mother needed to know what she knew, and she needed to know everything they did; shutting them out now wouldn’t do anyone any favors. Tomorrow. She’s sure of it.

“Will you be ready?” Maren bites back a moan as Elsa hits a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

“Yes,” she needed to have these conversations before she couldn’t.

Elsa refocuses her attention on Maren’s lips. They kiss for a long moment before Elsa starts to, less than gently, pull the clothes off the other woman.

“Awfully frisky tonight, aren’t you?” Maren laughs as she helps her with her ministrations.

“I’ve had a day, indulge me,” she melts the rest of her clothes off and pulls Maren on top of her. Elsa lets herself lose herself in the other woman’s touch, everything else would be there in the morning.

-

Anna is waiting for her outside her tent the next morning. She sees her eyes dart to the fresh marks still visible on her neck and sees Anna hold herself back from mentioning them. Elsa wishes she had the foresight to the collar on her jacket higher. Changing it now would just attract more attention.

“I’m sorry about last night, I know things are still weird between us and everything and maybe charades was too much too soon,” Elsa smiles at the effort, “Do you, can we make a snowman? Can we start with that?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Elsa sounds stiff but smiles all the same, she leads her a little way out of the village to a small clearing. Anna can’t help but notice the flock of small children that follow them in poorly concealed eagerness. Elsa signals her to wait a moment as the children line up to make requests. Elsa is gentle with them, carefully listening to each of their requests and making them whatever they wanted. Anna sees reindeer and flowers and even a sextant made before her eyes. The line quickly disperses as all the children walk back to the village with their newly acquired treasures.

“Have you and Honeymaren thought about having children?”

“We have, but not extensively, what about you and Kristoff?”

“We want kids, I don’t know about Kristoff, but I want a big family, he’s from a big family so he could go either way,” Elsa laughs only because she met him yesterday.

“I think Kristoff would love a big family,” Elsa means it, they’re well-matched.

“Wait, how do you know Kristoff already?” Anna, finally realizing that Elsa had name-dropped Kristoff twice already, is intrigued, perking up from her perch where she had waited for Elsa to be done with the village children.

“We met and talked yesterday,” Elsa says plainly.

“What did you talk about?”

“Sorry, that’s a secret,” Elsa smirks at Anna’s indignance.

“You and my boyfriend cannot have secrets you’re keeping from me already; you’ve known each other for a day!”

“It was an important conversation, life-changing even,” Elsa deadpans and, had there been any snow around, Anna would have flung it at her sister.

“…so, about that snowman,” Anna remembers what they came out here for, she could get her revenge later.

“Of course,” Elsa waves her hand, and Anna is pulled back instantly to memories she just started to remember. The gesture so familiar yet so different. Elsa is much the same way. A light coating of snow covers the ground. Anna picks up an armful and tosses it in the air, she had done this before. She turns away to dab the tears the prick at the corners of her eyes.

Deciding that later was now she forms a snowball and aims it for the middle of her sister’s back. It’s heading tried and true until it stops midair.

“Really Anna?” Elsa chides, dropping the snowball in-between them. She kneels beside it and starts to form the body of the snowman.

“Oh, come on, I thought I had you!” Anna joins her, starting to form the base of the snowman. “You can’t blame me for trying, you and Kristoff are keeping things from me,” Anna tries to look as pathetic as possible.

“I’m not telling you, Anna,” Elsa laughs at her puppy eyes, “Do you remember the snowman we used to make?”

“More and more recently,” Anna says wistfully, feeling actually pathetic, her memories had just started to come back. Every moment between birth and six seemed both real and fake. Elsa had calmed her as a child with the briefest of snow flurries, or Elsa had calmed her just by rocking her back to sleep. She and Elsa had played endlessly in the snow in winter or whenever they wanted. She shakes the memories away, that was then, this is now.

“Olaf?” Elsa had no idea how much Anna would even remember about her. Let alone everything they did together.

“Yeah, Olaf, I always it was weird that we made the same snowman, but he was unique, he was ours,” Anna had never made Olaf again, even with Elsie. Now was as good a time as any.

“How much do you remember? I’m not sure how much the trolls took,” Elsa broaches gently.

“The trolls will be my in-laws if Kristoff and I get married,” Elsa blinks slowly and bursts out laughing.

“Really?” She says still catching her breath between giggles.

“He was raised by trolls, literally raised by trolls, it’s a miracle we can even understand each other,” Anna kids.

“Never would have guessed it, he’s so well-behaved,” Elsa jokes right back, Anna catches her between the eyes with a snowball this time. Elsa lets her have this one.

“When did you start making your clothes out of ice?” Anna had been fascinated by the clothes she saw her sister wearing the other day.

“Sometime in my teens, I was testing my powers and making clothing was an easy way to test the extent of my powers.”

“You don’t get cold?”

“I don’t really get cold, it doesn’t bother me,” Elsa shrugs, “Sometimes it makes more sense to wear ice clothes, but I like my Northuldra clothes too,” it wasn’t just conformity versus individuality, it was a choice to embrace different parts of herself.

“Fair enough,” Anna could likely guess as much, Elsa had limitless power over snow and ice, it wouldn’t make much sense if elements affected her.

“Did you really try and marry a man you had known for only a few hours?” Elsa looks at her skeptically, gaging her reaction.

“Ugh did Kristoff tell you that?” Anna flops down dramatically, making a snow angel while she was down there. “Yes,” Anna admits, “Hans was really nice the first 16 hours I knew him and an asshole the last eight.” She half-heartedly tries to defend herself. She wasn’t ashamed of it anymore; it was part of growing up.

“But why did you say yes?”

“It was around the time that mother told me the truth about you, and father had died a few years back and I just wanted a relationship where there weren’t any secrets between us, Hans turned out to be a bad choice for this role,” she winces at this though, she didn’t trust anyone she knew so she trusted the first shyster who showed interest in her.

“That’s rough, I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” Elsa reaches her hand out and Anna takes it without hesitation, “Are you happy now?”

“Very,” Anna can’t help the bright smile that spreads across her face.

“How does he look?” Elsa releases their hands and turns to look at their work. Anna doesn’t have to dig too deep into her memories to see a brand-new Olaf.

“He’s missing arms, and some hair,” Anna says, tearing some branches down to give Olaf some character.

Elsa picks up some loose rocks to give their snowman some more character, “I think charcoal would look better, remind me next time,” She says it without a thought but finds that she means it. She wanted to have a real relationship with her sister. She places the last of the stones on their snowman and magic rushes out of her hands and through the snow.

“Hi! I’m Olaf and I like warm hugs!” The snowman opens his eyes and waves to them.

Anna has to pick her jaw up off the floor, “Has this ever happened before?” She whispers to Elsa, who has the same look Sven got when he was about to be hit by another cart.

“No, never,” _Olaf_ gets up on his stubby legs and starts to walk around,

“So, your Elsa and your Anna, this is so fun I’m already making friends, where else can I find some new friends?” At their stunned silence he continues on, “You two don’t talk much, that’s fine.”

“Should … should we stop him?” Anna says as Olaf starts to wander down the path back to the village.

“I don’t know,” Elsa says, already starting out after him.

-

They get Olaf settled into the village with much less fuss than Anna expected. It turned out if one of its inhabitants already had mythical powers it was just another day. Elsa had figured out a way to stop Olaf from melting when he got too close to a campfire and everyone was relaxing around the fire for supper. Anna can’t exactly discern what they were eating but the meat was tender and delicious.

Then the earth starts to shake, and the residents of the village start to take cover. Fires are doused and conversations halted immediately.

“What is this?” Kristoff yells before Ryder clamps his hands over his mouth. Elsa puts their fire out instantly.

“Shhh! It’s earth giants, they usually don’t roam this far south, or at night,” the second part Ryder says as he realizes it himself.

“Something’s wrong,” Yelena says from her sitting position, having not changed her position despite the danger. “Your arrival has shifted the already fragile balance of nature,” she doesn’t gesture but Anna knows she’s talking about them, “We need a solution

“We’ve waited too long, I need to head north to find that voice,” Elsa announces once the earth giants are far enough away. She stands up and waves her hand and her casual tunic transforms into a set tight-fitting pants shirt and jacket and makes a move to start marching north at that moment.

“Sit down child, you’re not leaving tonight, you can prepare, rest, and head out tomorrow,” Yelena pulls hard enough on her jacket’s cape to force her back on the log. Despite the seriousness of the situation Olaf and Anna both can’t help but laugh.

Elsa pouts for a moment before heading back to her hut to begin to pack, Honeymaren not far behind her.

“You’re not going alone either,” Anna snaps quickly out of her merriment to follow Elsa. She places her hand on her shoulder to stop her from entering her goahti. “I’m coming with you, Arendelle is my home and if that voice can help it, I’m going to whatever I can to help.”

“Anna, you’re not coming with me, I don’t want you to get hurt,” _again_ , she wants to tack on, but stops herself.

“Elsa, that was an accident, you were a literal child, you can’t keep blaming yourself for that,” Anna sees through everything quickly, she grabs her hands then, “We do this together or not at all,” Elsa nods and the decision is made, whether she likes it or not.

“We’ll leave at first light tomorrow, prepare however you can,” Elsa tells her with all seriousness and Anna surprises her by pulling her into a hug. Elsa returns the gesture.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” at this Anna finally releases her and lets her start to prepare herself.

“I’m not letting you go with these people alone, I’m coming too,” Maren says immediately, finding her spear and starting to pack a bag.

“Honey…” Elsa wraps her arms around the other woman’s shoulders to still her packing.

“Don’t _Honey_ me, you’re not doing this alone,” Elsa only called her Honey when she was being overly sweet, usually because Elsa was trying to convince Maren to let her do something she should not be doing. The first time Elsa had used the _Honey_ plea Maren had let Elsa make an ice-skating rink, which, granted, turned out much better than expected. The most recent time she had used the excuse however; Elsa had fallen and broken her wrist in three places after trying to climb a too-tall tree to get Bruni down. Elsa’s wrist had healed, but Maren’s patience hadn’t.

“They’re not just anyone it’s my family,” Elsa really didn’t want anyone to come with her, ever since she had started to hear the voice there had been a strange sense of warning around her. Whatever awaited her at the end of this journey was dangerous. The more people that came with her the more she put them at risk.

“I’m your family too, and I’m not letting you do this without me,” Elsa acquiesces because as much as she didn’t want to bring anyone along, she didn’t want to be alone in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read and left kudos on the few chapters, they keep me going and I always love reading everyone's reactions to the chapter. Also, points to whoever knows what musical this chapter's title is from. Thanks for reading!


	9. Thin Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything falls apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter but here it is

Elsa had thought about just sneaking off into the night and avoiding taking either Maren or Anna with her but both of them saw through this plan quickly. Maren had packed quickly and been ready to leave the moment she mentioned it and Anna had followed her into her home to avoid being ditched.

“I know you’re going to try and leave without me,” she’s right and Elsa can’t help but smile at the idea that, in spite of everything, they still knew each other.

“You’re smarter than I remember,” Elsa jibes, starting to pack her things.

“The last time that you saw me I was like five, who do you think had to pick up the slack after you left?” The last part cuts too deep for both of them and Elsa merely nods mutely in response. Elsa hadn’t left, not by choice at least. Anna stammers out an apology and Elsa takes it immediately, there as no point in dwelling on it now. Anna needed to know the truth about their father. (Telling her would ruin their father for her, years ago Elsa would have relished in that, now she's not so sure)

“Shouldn’t we tell mom and everyone else that you’re planning on leaving tonight?”

“I already don’t want to bring you along Anna, I’m not bringing mother, Olaf, or Kristoff, or the reindeer,” Elsa tacks on as an afterthought. She had seen how close Kristoff and Sven were, it was appropriate to exclude him. Elsa was packing for the journey north.

“I get leaving mother and Olaf behind, but why can’t we bring Kristoff? He’s an experienced mountaineer and Sven can help us travel faster,” Anna pouts, this was an adventure, a real adventure, it should include everyone. “You get to bring your girlfriend! Why can’t Kristoff come?”

“First off Honeymaren isn’t my girlfriend, she’s my fiancé, and secondly, I don’t want to put more people in danger than I have to, this journey should be as bare-bones as it can be, it’s not an adventure it’s a mission, we need to find a way to free the forest and save Arendelle, not sightsee,” Elsa decides to not wear her furs on the journey. She liked to wear her furs around the village, it helped her felt less like a foreigner. (Although, it seemed like she had never been a real foreigner, even if the feeling was only retroactive. _Half-Northuldra_ , it was strange to think about. She had fought and clawed her way into the good graces of the community, and it had been for nothing. Not for nothing but just as well) Her ice clothes would be easier to travel in any way.

“I know…” Anna complains loudly, she flops down on the furs in her sister’s hut. It lacks the cushion that her bed does, and she knocks the wind out of herself. She groans loudly at the feeling before quickly distracting herself going through her sister’s things. From the handmade blankets to the symbol painted on the flap that served as a door. She tries to take it all in, this was her sister’s life. It was all so strange and new, and she needed to know everything.

“Besides, if I left Maren, she would hunt me down and kill me herself,” Anna finds this hilarious and falls back to the ground in hysterics, though Elsa is not joking. Elsa sees Anna making a beeline for her chest and calls out, “If you keep rifling through my stuff, I’ll kick you out of my room,” Elsa jests. Anna sticks her tongue out at the threat.

Elsa watches her sister examine her exposed wrists carefully. “What are you looking for?”

“Maren showed me her mark I was looking for yours,” Anna’s eyes don’t leave her wrists.

“Oh, I didn’t want mine on to be that visible,” Elsa explains without going into too much detail. Marks are specific for couples both in location and meaning. Elsa had placed Maren’s mark on her wrist and forearm because she was a very open person; Maren had similarly chosen to place Elsa’s along her spine because she wasn’t. She pulls her braid aside to show Anna the tattoo.

“What does it mean?” Anna reaches her hand out to touch it but pulls back at the last minute. It was too intimate.

“It’s our mark,” Elsa says simply.

“Yeah, Honeymaren told me about that, but what does it mean?”

Elsa hesitates for a long moment, before remembering that Anna is her sister, and this was as much their culture as it was hers. She pulls her braid back again to give Anna a clearer look. Elsa points to the diamond at the very base of her neck, “This one is devotion,” the outfit she had created in her haste was semi-backless, making the effort a little easier, “This is family,” it was a specific character for family, _found_ or _chosen_ , but she doesn’t elaborate aloud, “This is fire, because when Maren took her coming of age test she saw the fire spirit,” she moves onto the final symbol, “This one is ice, together with fire it represents balance.”

“It’s beautiful,” Anna traces the lines with her mind and tries to will herself to understand the symbols painted on her sister’s skin. “What else goes into a Northuldra wedding?”

“We haven’t even tried to start planning the actual wedding,” it was a daunting task that neither of them had given much thought to. They wanted to be married, eventually, but they were fine where they were at right now.

“Honeymaren said that the ceremonies are three days long?”

“Yes,” Elsa had attended a few ceremonies during her tenure in the forest, just a few months ago Aillun had married Kirste, she and Maren had been hesitant to attend but he insisted, and they had a lovely time. No hard feelings among would-be lovers. “There’s a day for the meeting of the families, a day for the wedding ceremony, and day for the meal and dancing,” it was more complicated than that unfortunately but that was basically how it went. Until 24 hours ago Elsa thought that she could skip the first day entirely, she had no family left to give her away, and Yelena who had practically raised her and Maren could not hold the whole ceremony by herself. Things had changed though.

“When you do get married you have to tell us so we can come,” Anna implores her and Elsa finds herself agreeing immediately; she has her family back, not whole, not the same, but back together in spite of everything and that meant something.

“Of course,” Elsa likes this change. She had never even considered being married _before_ , but she could be now, and she could have her family with her. “You too, when you get married, I want to be there,” some part of Elsa thinks that Anna could very well get married before she did and can’t help but laugh at that. 

Anna flushes at the insinuation, “What? Did Kristoff say something?” She points accusingly at her sister. The word still felt strange, even in her mind, but Anna relishes in the feeling all the same.

“He didn’t have to, sisterly intuition,” he had told her, but Anna didn’t need to know that. Elsa relishes in the shade of red that Anna’s face turns at her refusal.

Maren had been waiting outside their goahti, giving the sisters some privacy to reconnect. She hadn’t been eavesdropping exactly, but she could tell by Elsa’s poorly contained laughter that now was as good a time any to join the conversation. She pulls the flap back and coughs aloud to announce her presence.

“Mare-” Elsa turns her head at her lover’s entrance. A smile on her face already.

“Honeymaren!” Anna exclaims at the welcome intrusion.

“Are you ready to leave?” Maren asks

“All packed,” Elsa hoists the pack on her back and hands Maren her own. Between the two of them, they had packed enough for Anna as well.

“Wait, we’re leaving now? I thought Yelena wasn’t going to let us leave until tomorrow morning?” Anna glances back and forth between the two.

“What Yelena doesn’t know—” Elsa starts.

“—She’ll find out eventually,” Maren concedes, shaking her head slightly, Yelena could kill them later, she didn’t have a voice constantly calling out to her and she could tell from Elsa’s mood that they were already running out of time. She holds the flap open so the rest of the party could exit.

“Don’t you want to talk to mom before we go?” Anna offers to carry something, but the other two women reassure her that they have it covered.

“No, we need to start north as soon as we can, I already feel like we’re running out of time,” Elsa wanted to talk to their mother, needed even, but the sun had set hours ago, and the voice had only gotten louder. That could wait, this could not.

“Will you talk to her?”

“Yes, when I get back,” she knows deep down that her mother had no idea what father had planned but she needed to hear it from her. She needed to know that her mother had loved her more than her father's fear.

-

Elsa leads the party as quietly as they can out of the village, Honeymaren trailing behind to make sure that no one followed them. Assured that they made it out without any additions Honeymaren stays back to give the sisters some space. There was still much that needed to be said and they had barely scratched the surface.

“So, when this is all over will you come back to Arendelle?” Anna broaches, they had avoided talking about anything too hard or too deep for the entirety of her time in the enchanted forest thus far, they needed to talk.

“I don’t think so Anna, I don’t belong there anymore,” she didn’t belong there even when she lived there. Her father had seen to that. (The Agnarr that Anna knew was likely very different from the one Elsa knew. Even as a child Elsa hadn’t wanted to ruin their parents for Anna, she deserved a normal childhood, with parents that could love her just for who she was. She knows, _she_ _does_ , that Anna would have rebelled the moment she heard of what was going on with her isolation. Some part of her still doesn’t want to ruin their father for Anna)

“But you’re the heir!”

It’s clear from her face that Elsa hadn’t even thought about her status as royalty in the midst of all these revelations. She gives herself a moment to compose herself before responding, “That may be my birthright Anna, but I am not suited for the crown, I never was,” She tacks on the last part because it needed to be said. She had lived a life of isolation even before coming here, she knew nothing of the people in Arendelle, let alone how to rule them.

“Neither am I though! I’m supposed to take the throne soon and I don’t know what I’m doing!

Elsa sees the fear in her eyes then, no matter what Anna thought, Elsa knew that she would make a magnificent queen. She visibly softens and slows their pace to a grinding halt. “Anna, I know that you’ll be able to rule in a way that I never could, I believe in you,” she pulls her sister into a tight hug that Anna melts into. She doesn’t cry this time but her shoulders sag in relief all the same. “I can’t come back to Arendelle to stay though, my home, my life is here.”

Anna sags at the response but understands it, “What about just to visit?”

“I could handle visiting,” Elsa thinks that she could, she could see how the kingdom had changed in her absence. See how the world had changed without her in it. 

“What are we talking about?” Olaf pops up between them and both of them can’t help but scream. Olaf joins in and starts screaming as well. Once the three of them finally stop Maren catches up to them.

“I thought you were making sure we weren’t being followed!” Anna whisper-yells at Honeymaren.

“I don’t know where he came from!”

“I’m not sure either, one moment I was nothing and the next poof!” Olaf gestures at his form and Elsa feels her eye twitch. Still processing the idea that she had inadvertently created life.

“He wasn’t following us when we left the village!” Maren tries to defend herself.

“Yeah, I woke up and realized that all of you were missing and the little salamander pointed me this way, also, how great is sleep? This is one of my first experiences with it, but it is amazing,” Elsa realizes then that Olaf was basically a young child that had followed them into danger.

“Olaf you need to go back to the village, you made it this far by yourself, you should be able to make your way home,” Olaf wasn’t exactly a child, he could be trusted to make it back to the village alone, right? Elsa wonders.

“I don’t want to go to back, I wanna stay with you!” Olaf presses his stick arms together in a plea that makes Elsa think of the last time that she saw Anna. Elsa wants to reprimand him again, but their conversation is interrupted by the trampling of nearby underbrush.

They hear rustling in the bushes and Maren pulls out her staff and Elsa readies her powers. Instead of earth giants or some other boogeyman a group of soldiers stumble out. They draw their weapons and Elsa freezes their feet in place before they can charge in without thinking. Anna sees the recognition flash across the leader’s face as he flushes in embarrassment as Elsa walks up to them.

“There were Arendellian soldiers here the whole time?” Anna whispers to Honeymaren, the two of them step back as Elsa walks casually up to the group. The soldiers losing their air of hostility as soon as Elsa and the leader start to chat. 

“They’ve been trapped in the mist for as long as we have,” Maren lowers her staff but keeps her guard up, Elsa had grown to trust the soldiers, she had not. 

“Should we be letting her do this alone?”

“Yeah, Elsa knows the soldiers better than anyone in the tribe,” Yelena had never tried to stop Elsa from interacting with the soldiers, they were from the same place, there had to be some level of camaraderie between them. Maren herself had never seemed to understand it either but she trusted Elsa’s judgment.

“I feel like I’ve seen him before,” Anna mentions offhandedly, she knew that she had seen him before. “Do you get along?”

“The relationship’s been back ad forth, better recently,” Elsa had never explicitly tried to foster a better relationship between the two factions, but it had happened, nonetheless. The soldiers had been invited for larger village-wide celebrations and the Northuldra to some of theirs had helped teach some of the children Arendellian. All of their interactions were no longer hostile, but Maren was still wary.

“Because of Elsa?”

“What are you talking about?” Olaf asks loudly, Anna shushes him, but Elsa has already turned back to see what they were talking about. Elsa unfreezes the soldiers’ boots and the group makes their way back over to them

“More or less,” Maren says as she moves to meet them in the middle and Anna follows after.

“Second photo on the left of the royal library! Lieutenant Mattias!” Anna exclaims, finally remembering where she had seen that man before. “You were our father’s royal guard!”

“Yes, that’s me,” _Mattias_ stammers out, “Who is this Elsa?”

“This is my sister, Princess Anna of Arendelle,” the old commander could see the resemblance between father and daughter clearly now, they had the same energy and Anna’s hair color matched her grandfather’s well.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mattias bows slightly, his court manners rusty but not rusted through.

“Likewise,” Anna curtseys, “So, did you know our father well?”

“Yes, very well, he was like a son to me,” Mattias believed Elsa and that made his curiosity feel even more treacherous, he shoots her a quick glance and she meets his eyes for only a moment, giving him a silent go-ahead before turning away, “How is he?”

“He passed a few years back, but my mother is here with us in the forest,” Anna can see the briefest of wars flash behind Mattias’ eyes, settling on looking lost.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he doesn’t elaborate, Elsa may have given him the okay, but it still felt like a betrayal, “How has Arendelle changed?”

“I don’t know…” Anna ponders for a moment, “We repaved a couple of roads, we have some new oil lamps on all the streets, and OH! A photo studio opened downtown!”

Mattias is very confused as to what a photo exactly is, but that wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, “Is Halima still over at Hudson’s Hearth?” Elsa had mentioned, years ago, that Anna would be the one to ask about things like this, well now he had the opportunity.

“She is, makes some of the best bread in all of Arendelle,” Anna wants to tease him, but she doesn’t really know him.

“She ever marry?”

“No,” Anna smiles at his obvious interest.

“Wow, I wish that made me feel better,” he sags, and Anna can’t help but pat him on the shoulder reassuringly. He rights himself after a moment and asks, “Where are you headed?”

“North, Arendelle is in danger and we need to find answers,” Elsa is curt, she has nothing against Mattias, not anymore, but they were in a hurry. As much as she would love to leave Anna here to catch up, there was no way she would let that happen.

“Please tell me if you are in need of any assistance, I am at your service,” Mattias, noticing her haste offers quickly.

“We will,” Anna reassures after Elsa says nothing, already turning north again. 

-

Sometime after leaving the soldiers they decide to camp for the night, they had been walking all night and most of the day and Anna, despite how much she was avoiding complaining, was tuckered out. She insists that her sister rest as she and Maren set up camp quickly. Olaf is surprisingly adept at starting a fire and Elsa can’t help but feel a little proud.

“What was it like, growing up here?” Anna broaches as they lay down after dinner.

“Amazing,” Elsa says simply, “I’ve never been so free in my life,” the last two and a half years of her tenure in the castle had been nothing but a cage. Not kind but not entirely malicious.

“I’m glad,” Anna replies, having nothing else to say. She wanted to know everything but was willing to take whatever offered her.

“What was it like growing up in Arendelle?” Elsa asks

“I had to take on a lot of responsibilities as the heir, but I had a lot of fun too,” Anna smiles at the memory “Father used to sneak me snacks during my lessons and would keep me busy so I didn’t have to go to some of the more boring ones,” as Anna says this Elsa remembers why she can’t tell her.

“I meant what I said before Anna, I think you’ll be an amazing queen,” she reaches out to squeeze Anna’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Anna smiles, and Elsa hopes that this is enough.

“So… about you and Honeymaren?”

“Anna, she’s right here,” Honeymaren had passed out as soon as dinner was over, but still.

“Well can we talk about me and Kristoff?”

“Anna…” Elsa warns.

“Please, Elsa! I need someone to talk to about my love life other than mom! Do you know how much she knows about me and Kristoff? Too. Much.”

Elsa burst out laughing, she covers it quickly to try and not wake Maren but suppressing her giggles was harder than expected. Anna pouts and Elsa has to fight another round of giggles. “What do you want to talk about?” She says finally. (There was some relief in being able to laugh with and at her sister)

“I don’t know, I think Kristoff is going to propose soon,” Anna pauses for a moment, an anxious and excited energy bouncing off of her, “And I’m excited, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t know how to handle all these things happening at the same time, like the coronation, getting engaged, _this_ ,” Anna doesn’t mean the last part unkindly, and Elsa doesn’t take as so, “And I just, I’m glad to be able to talk to someone about this. Well someone other than mom.”

Elsa nods briefly, smiling, which Anna returns. Elsa goes to say something but then zones out for a long moment and Anna needs to ask, “How long have you been hearing the voice?”

“A while,” Elsa wants to downplay it, she doesn’t want her family to worry about her.

“Forever,” Maren interjects, their talking having roused her from her sleep, “She hasn’t been sleeping properly in weeks,” they had laid out separate sleeping mats to avoid making Anna uncomfortable and to avoid any awkward situations in the morning.

“Blabbermouth,” Elsa mumbles under her breath,

“I heard that,” Maren shoots her a glare across the tent. “Go to sleep, both of you, we have a long day ahead of us,” Honeymaren huffs and Elsa wishes that she could lean across their sleeping mat and kiss her.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Elsa says and then repeats to herself as she lies awake until hours later.

-

Elsa had been living with a strange sense of foreboding ever since the voices had started calling to her. Every day that it called out to her and she didn’t answer only made the feeling grow. Now that she had started to listen to them the feeling hadn’t gone away. This journey could easily be her end. The further north they went she was almost sure of it. She calls out to the voice aloud and hears the voice call out urgently, she leads the way.

For someone who was neither unhealthy nor old Elsa was almost sure that her days were numbered. She had been sickly back when she first came to the forest, she hadn’t left her room in years, she hadn’t had any opportunity to do _anything_. She grew slowly and her skin was paler than normal, even for her. After years in the forest, she had gained muscle and her skin, although it still didn’t see much direct sunlight, was much healthier. Soon after she arrived in the forest, she had hit a growth spurt; she was taller than her mother and Anna now. What she felt now was different, she didn’t feel sick, but she didn’t feel well either. Whatever it meant, the only thing she’s sure of is that it isn’t good. She had to free the forest and save her people before that time came.

The further they went the less she needed to call out to the voice, it answered without provocation. It consumes all of her thoughts, she’s useless whenever anyone tries to talk to her.

They’ve been traveling almost half a day when they see it. Olaf is actually the one to spot the flag. It crests over a large crag of rocks and looms over them for only a moment before they rush to see what it was attached to.

They come upon a grounded ship. Elsa had never studied ships extensively, but she remembered Arendelle’s flag and that was enough. They make their way into the wreckage, the large tear in the hull large enough for them to walk right through. Whatever happened to the ship it had been a violent end.

“What is this doing here?” Maren asks aloud, moving around the ship to try and find anything left behind that could be a clue.

“I don’t know,” Elsa walks to the desk in the center of the wreckage, it had been torn in half and any plans that had graced it were long gone now.

“I wish we could know what happened here,” Anna wishes aloud coming up beside her to examine the desk more closely, and Elsa’s body echoes the sentiment despite her own misgivings. She didn’t want to want to know but she did. She presses her hands to the desk and tries to quell the thoughts.

Instead, Elsa feels the water in the ship lift out and combine into living memories. The ship reforms around them, ice and snow fixing the gaping holes that lived there now. A figure paces back in forth in front of them, it takes her a long moment to realize that this figure was their father. His shoulders are hunched, a posture that Elsa had never seen him with. From the looks on Anna and Maren’s faces, they were seeing it too. She watches the vision of her father pace back and forth, muttering, she can only catch a handful of words. _Elsa … powers … fix …_ Her powers reform the now shattered desk, as her father pours over the plans. She tries to move closer to see what he was looking at, but her legs are locked in place. He mutters something incomprehensible before turning away from the desk.

The scene changes. Icy waves shake the hull of the ship. Her father is afraid, she doesn’t need words for that. She can hear the echoes of shouting above deck and knows that this must be when the ship went down. Her powers don’t recreate the lightning, but she feels it in her bones anyway. 

_I’m sorry Elsa._ She hears those words and the vision disappears completely. The hull breaks and her father is swallowed whole by the waves of memories.

Elsa had been sick before, she had been sick when she first came to the forest, she had caught the occasional colds that knocked her off her feet for a few days but never like this. All of her strength feels like it has been drained from her body. She grips what’s left of a desk and slowly lowers herself down to the ground. The world was spinning around her and she thought was about to lose whatever was in her stomach. Her nose drips and she has to hold back a hard cough. Honeymaren rushes to her side but can’t tell what’s wrong. She wipes her nose with a rag pulled from her belt and it comes away bloody.

“There’s a compartment in ships, it’s waterproof, it has to have where he was heading,” Anna says frantic, rushing around the ruins, having not noticed Elsa’s condition. She stops for a moment and sees Elsa slumped on the ground. “Elsa! What’s wrong?” Anna rushes to her side but hesitates to touch her. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa manages out between trying to catch her breath. She had caught sight of the now bloody rag that Maren was still holding to her nose it still hadn’t stopped bleeding. Her powers had reacted to something and shown them _that_.

“Has anything like this ever happened before?”

“Once, but never on this scale,” Elsa thinks back to the briefest of visions she had gotten when Gale first attacked her. She had seen glimpses of the past before; looking back, those figures she saw running along the inside of the cyclone were likely her parents, otherwise, why would Gale have shown her? But she had never seen the past on this scale, or alone. “What was father looking at?” She manages to sputter out.

“The compartment!” Anna returns to her search. Quickly returning to them with a small metal container. “Every Arendellian ship has a compartment that’s completely waterproof, this should have at least some of the plans as to where father was headed.”

“Kinda makes you wonder why they don’t just make the whole ship out of that stuff, huh?” Olaf ponders aloud as he comes to look at what Anna found, although Elsa’s head is still spinning so much that she doesn’t register any of this.

“How would an Arendellian ship even get this far in through the mist?” Honeymaren helps her to her feet to get a better look at the plans Anna laid out.

“Maybe no one was on the ship when it got here,” Olaf says suddenly, Elsa had almost forgotten that he was there, the short period that consisted of his sentient life he had never been this quiet. Elsa realizes that he’s likely correct. No one had been able to enter the mist since her and later the rest of her family. Inanimate objects carried by the tide were likely fair game.

Her vision stops swimming long enough for Elsa to recognize her father’s neat scrawl along the edges of the map. _The end of the ice age. A river lost and found._ Many of the words had been smudged, written, and ruined before the ink had dried. But the last few are completely legible _Cross the dark sea. Find Ahtohallen._

“Ahtohallen? It’s real?” Honeymaren can’t help the incredulity that creeps into her voice; Ahtohallen was a nursery rhyme, a cautionary tale, an occasional curse word, never a real place.

“Why was father looking for it though?”

“He wanted to come to the forest, to find the source of your powers,” Anna fits the pieces together better and faster and Elsa can’t say she likes the picture.

“Why though?” _He thought that I was dead already_ , Elsa thinks loudly in her mind.

“He wanted to do something to help you, he wanted to find you more than anything,” Anna says it so sincerely that something inside of her snaps.

“He tried to kill me, Anna!” And Elsa doesn’t want it to come out like _this_ , or at all, but it comes out all the same.

“What?” Anna says, the color draining from her face faster than snow melting on a summer day.

Elsa hates that she said anything at all, but it was out there now, so she had to live with it, “When father said that he took me to see the trolls the second time, he didn’t, he took me into the woods to kill me, my powers protected me, but after that failed, he abandoned me in the woods to die.”

“No,” Anna says in disbelief, clutching the desk like a lifeline.

“It’s what happened Anna, I’m sorry,” she doesn’t know why she apologizes; it wasn’t either of their faults. (She ruined her sister’s post-humous relationship with their father, that was reason enough to apologize, wasn’t it?) “I’ve made a mistake letting you come along,” Elsa says suddenly, she addresses Anna directly but really, she means everyone. Maren, Anna, Olaf, none of them were right for this journey. She pushes Maren’s hand holding the bloodied rag away. Standing up abruptly and rushing out of the ruins, nearly collapsing on the first rock she finds outside of the ship. Her strength was still gone. She clutches her nose and finds the drip finally waning.

“Elsa you’re in no condition to keep going!” Anna snaps out of one tailspin and into another. Elsa’s could barely hold herself up, there was no way she would make it to Ahtohallen alone. She was _not_ abandoning them now.

“I have my powers to protect me!” Elsa argues back as if there wasn’t dried blood all over her upper lip.

“Your powers almost just killed you!” Anna screams at her then, angry, tired, upset, everything coming together over and over again.

“We can protect ourselves, Elsa! What do you think of us?” Honeymaren adds fuel to their fire.

“I _think_ that I want the people I love to be safe!” Elsa lashes out like a wounded animal, trying to stop the people who loved her unconditionally from doing so, to make things easier later.

“We’re not leaving you, Elsa,” Anna says evenly, not wanting to upset Elsa further. Elsa pulls her and Olaf into a tight hug.

Maren knows what Elsa is doing before she does it. She pulls Anna and Olaf into a hug; she motions for Maren to join her as well, but she steps back at the last moment. Right before she was to join the group hug, Elsa, despite her state, creates an ice canoe and shoves the two into it. A path quickly forms, and the boat is already almost out of sight in minutes. Anna screaming curses at her sister the entire way. It’s after all of that that Elsa finally turns to her.

“I can’t exactly get rid of you,” Elsa still sounds exhausted as Maren goes to wipe off the remaining blood on her face. 

“No, you know that I would find you,” Elsa’s still too pale and too weak, but she knows that there will be no arguments on this, “So where do we go from here?”

“North, until we hit the ocean, then we’ll have to find a way to cross,” Elsa takes her outstretched hand and points them north.

-

She had had an inkling since Elsa had first shown her her powers. But to admit it was to know that Elsa’s destiny may extend past her or anyone else in the tribe. She had believed in the fifth spirit since her father had told her the first story of the figure. The fifth spirit had been a mythic figure that existed in her imagination for years. Then she met Elsa.

Honeymaren was a big believer that things would even out in the end. Good and bad had to coexist or they wouldn’t exist at all. Harsh winters gave way to bountiful summers, the death of her parents, and the arrival of Elsa.

The beings in her father’s stories had always been supernatural and that had always come at a cost. She had never seen Elsa pay a price until today, and she could only guess that it was only the beginning.

It’s another few hours from the shipwreck at a snail’s pace when they see it, the dark sea. There wasn’t anything waiting for them on the other side, not as far as the eye could see. The only thing that awaited them was a harsh and unforgiving seascape.

“How are we going to cross that?”

“I don’t know, but I have to,” she doesn’t miss the use of the singular, this wasn’t something they would do together. Elsa never had any intention of that. Some of her strength had returned but not all of it, even if she had been at full strength it was a fool’s errand. She starts to strip off her outer layers.

“Please don’t do this, please we can turn around and go back to our lives”

“You know that I can’t do that,” Elsa knots her hair in a ponytail.

“Yes, you can! It’s not your destiny to kill yourself over something your family did decades ago!” Some part, the largest part, of Honeymaren wants Elsa safe more than she wanted to save the forest, to save Arendelle—if that was selfish, so be it.

“You know that’s not why I’m doing it, I need to help our people,” Elsa says as if that were anything different than trying to get herself killed. “Don’t you want to see the sky?” She hates how much she does want that, how she wants to do everything, save everyone, but she wasn’t willing to pay the price. Elsa was, that was the difference between them.

“I can live without that! I can’t live without you!”

Elsa pulls her in for a kiss and Maren knows she’s lost the battle. It’s tender and long and there are too many emotions muddled in there to count.

“I’m sorry,” Elsa says as she pulls away, it’s then that Maren feels Gale’s familiar gust of wind pulling her upwards. Her struggle against the wind is futile, but she fights anyways, she screams at Elsa, screams at Gale to let her down to no avail. Maren catches only the briefest of glimpses of Elsa charging headfirst into the sea before Gale whisks her away completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't guessed, I was not the biggest fan of the whole idea of water memories in the movie. Like, I like the narrative purpose they serve but with Iduna being alive they seemed less important for this story.  
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Lost in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna deals with the aftermath of Elsa's decision  
> Iduna deals with the aftermath of her own  
> Kristoff just wants to get things right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think of Yelena as this Ron Swanson-like figure in the kids' life, she loves and cares about her charges but doesn't always care about the exact outcome.  
> I'm also participating in Elsamaren Week Summer 2020 so check that out if you haven't already

“What the hell Elsa?” Anna screams as the canoe starts to speed away from her sister.

Anna tries to stop the ice canoe anyway she can. She reaches her hands out on the ice path to try and gain some kind of purchase in vain. She tries to break the canoe and only bruises her knuckles. The branches above them are too high for her to grab onto so she slouches back in the canoe.

“Anna, I’m sensing some rising anger from you,” Olaf fidgets but remains seated. Anna didn’t know how to treat him, he was a snowman, well child and everything was new to him.

“I am angry! I am going to kill Elsa the next time I see her,” she says vehemently. The first real activity she gets to do with her sister and her sister ditches her the first chance she can. At this rate she was going to get herself killed.

“I don’t think that will be very productive, have you considered just maiming her?” Olaf had been sitting in the canoe incredibly calmly as she frantically tried to stop their egress.

“Olaf! How are you so calm? She sent us away!” As the canoe picks up speed after cresting another hill Anna finally sees a branch within reach and tries to grab onto it to slow them down; all it does is divert them off the path Elsa had made and force them into a nearby river. Anna screams in frustration.

“I don’t really know what’s going on Anna, that helps.”

“Who does she think she is?”

“She’s Elsa Anna, I thought you would know this, she is your sister,” Olaf says, apparently missing the context.

“I know that Olaf!” Anna screams but then quickly covers her mouth as she remembers the earth giants. The river twists and bends and they have to scramble to avoid falling into an earth giant’s nose. “She just, she said, she _promised_ that we would do this together and…”

“You can’t do everything together Anna,” Olaf reaches out his hand and she takes it, despite the fact that she was holding onto a literal stick, she finds immense comfort in the gesture.

“I know, but we haven’t been able to do anything together in decades, and I wanted to be able to help her, to help our kingdom,” she needed to prove that she could do things on her own, that she was fit to rule Arendelle and prove everyone who believed in her right. To prove to herself that she was _worthy_ of their praise in the first place. “None of this is your fault, Olaf, it’s just strange to have a sister again.”

“It’s strange to be alive Anna,” and she can’t help but laugh at his either astuteness or obliviousness. “Don’t worry Anna, we’ll figure it out together.” Anna pats his hands and almost doesn’t catch where they’re headed.

“Cave!” Anna stage yells and Olaf turns his head around like an owl and has to stop himself from screaming. She and Olaf again frantically try to steer the canoe out of the deep dark hole they’re pointed towards. But there’s nowhere else for them to go and they both can do nothing but stifle their screams as the canoe falls over the waterfall.

-

Iduna rises early the next morning, ready to embark on whatever journey was ahead of them, hoping she and Elsa could finally speak. Instead she bumps into Yelena immediately.

“Have you seen—” Iduna doesn’t even try to say it in Northuldra, with the conversation she wants to have she needed the nuance of a language she actually knew.

“Elsa, Honeymaren, and the princess left last night,” Yelena says calmly in Arendellian, despite the visible vein already forming on Iduna’s forehead.

“And you didn’t stop them?”

“They knew what they were doing, whatever you or I said wouldn’t have stopped them,” Iduna doesn’t remember chiefs being this _cavalier_.

“So where are they now?”

“Probably halfway to wherever they’re going.”

“Can’t we go after them?”

“There’d be no point, Elsa was ready to leave alone at dinner last night, we should count ourselves lucky that she took anyone along with her.”

“Is this how you’ve been raising my child?” Iduna feels the righteous indignation boil in her stomach. She knows that she has no place to say anything like this, to a chief no less, but she can’t stop herself.

“Your _child_ came to us starved and half-dead,” Yelena counters easily, “somehow her powers let her through the mist but only once, had they not, there is no doubt in my mind that she would have died out there.”

“Her father…” Iduna begins but doesn’t know how to continue.

“The same man who tried to kill her?”

“Yes,” it hurt to admit it. Her husband had been many things and now another. Murderer seems too harsh, not to mention inaccurate, but it feels apropos. He had tried to kill his own child. The child that he had raised and loved from her first moments. The child that she had love and mourn several times over. “What was Elsa like as a child?”

“You knew her for most of her childhood if I’m to be believed, I should be asking you this,” Yelena responds curtly. She had no idea how to treat these outsiders. Iduna was Northuldra, she should hardly be considered an outsider, but she was.

“Agnarr and I locked her in her room, we said was only until she learned to control her powers, but he had planned to keep her there indefinitely,” it hurt to admit that, she had never suggested it, but she had been complacent in it. “I never knew her that well, she was always closer with her father, they had a good relationship, before the accident.” Agnarr and Elsa had been cut from the same cloth. Her eldest hadn’t resembled her father physically, well maybe in height, but they had been so alike sometimes she couldn’t understand the conversations they had. Neither of them even tried to explain either, even when prompted.

“When she hurt Anna?”

“She told you?” Iduna is surprised but she shouldn’t be, her daughter had lived a whole life without them, “The trolls took Anna’s memories away to save her. It was an accident.”

“And yet you still locked the girl in her room?” Elsa had never been forthcoming with her past. She had told her about the attempted murder and her powers and then nothing more for years. The fact that the girl was royalty was rather unexpected news. Discussion of her isolation had come later and Honeymaren had been the first to know, Elsa had only told her after.

“We thought that with a little time she could learn to control her powers and everything could go back to normal, well I did … Agnarr thought that he could teach her to hide her powers by suppressing her emotions,” she had heard Elsa repeating the same phrase over and over again, _conceal don’t feel,_ it had seemed harmless at the time and Iduna wants to hit herself. “How did you teach her to control her powers?” How else had she failed her child? What else had her people been able to give her child that she couldn’t?

“I didn’t do anything; however Elsa came to be in control of her powers she did on her own,” Yelena dismisses any involvement quickly. Iduna seems outwardly shocked by this. “The girl is capable when given the chance,” Elsa would probably like this compliment, it wasn’t too nice. “Elsa grew up here in the tribe ever since she came to us years ago, a lot of the tribesmen were not at all excited by the idea of taking in an outsider, but she worked continuously to prove herself to them,” “During a blizzard she helped keep the tribe alive by hunting a foraging throughout the storm,” between her three charges, Elsa had likely given her the most grey hairs. “Towards the end of the storm she fell and broke her ankle, we had to wait for the storm to end to search for her.”

“How long was that?” Iduna knows that Elsa is fine, but the idea of her child being alone in the middle of a blizzard is terrifying even now.

“A few days, she was further away from the village than she should have been,” Yelena feels for her then, she had been terrified when Elsa didn’t return, her fears had only been assuaged when her scouts had found her after the storm had finally died down. “As reckless as she was, she saved lives.”

“Is that the only reason the council let her take her trials?”

“Yes, I had to fight to get Elsa recognized by anyone in the village, we haven’t trusted outsiders in almost forty years, and look where that got us,” Yelena gestures vaguely, although she doesn’t have to, Iduna was there. She remembers the bloodshed right before she had absconded the forest.

“Is she accepted now?”

“More or less, there are naysayers, but the new generation is more accepting.”

“Did she ever mention us?”

“Elsa tries to not dwell on the past at all, she didn’t even want to tell me that she was Arendellian, let alone that her father tried to kill her,” she watches Iduna flinch, before continuing, “She may have thought of you and your other daughter but she never expressed this aloud,” she briefly feels bad at the way Iduna’s face falls but continues on, “It took a very long time for her to just stop hating herself, now the girl doesn’t hate herself but doesn’t care enough about herself, she lives her life for other people. It took her a long time to even consider that she had people that cared about her,” Yelena shakes her head, not sure if saying all of it aloud would help or not. “She’s engaged for spirit’s sake, and still she doesn’t seem to understand that there are people that care about her.”

“My daughter is engaged?” Iduna almost yells this part, she has to stop herself and only partially succeeds. Anna would like to prod her about the sound she just made, but she made the same sound. Anna had gotten her dispositions, she and Agnarr had agreed on that.

“Yes, has been for a while,” Yelena says it nonchalantly like it wasn’t a milestone in her daughter’s life.

“…To?” Iduna prods, she needed to know her daughter. She had already missed too much. Elsa had never shown any inclination towards _anyone_ as a child. Anna had loved too much and too easily as long she had been alive—Hans had been the worst case-study in that. Elsa never had the chance to trust anyone outside of her family, Elsa had never asked for help, even as a baby, Iduna realizes belatedly. Spirits knows what happened between her and her father before he had decided to kill her.

“Honeymaren of course, they’ve been inseparable since they were children,” to Yelena it was obvious, to Iduna it was a revelation. That had been an adjustment for her when she first left the forest. Arendelle had never officially accepted or denied people like that. People like Elsa. There were no laws against it but no laws protecting them. Honeymaren, Iduna could guess, was the woman who had tailed her and her daughter when they spoke a few nights before. The one that Elsa had bid goodnight with a chaste kiss. She hadn’t seen it herself, but Anna had relayed the information to her after some hesitation. It wasn’t her secret to tell.

“Is she happy? Are they happy?” Iduna doesn’t know what else to ask. Fifteen years of trying to not imagine a future for her daughter had damaged her capacity for such things. The last thing she had wished for Elsa was for her to gain some control over her powers. Now she had all these things to wish for her daughter who had left last night to avoid

“Yes, very.” Yelena doesn’t elaborate, and Iduna has no words to make her. “What happened to the girls’ father?”

“Agnarr and I had been researching how to contain Elsa’s powers, even after he tried to kill her, and he just became obsessed with it, every spare moment he had he was in his study poring over maps and old tomes,” she had thought it guilt before and now it took on another meaning. It was still guilt, but not over the failure of having done nothing, but having done _something_ , “eventually he left on a mission to find the source of her powers and never returned.” She remembered the last days before he left, he had tried his hardest to pretend that this was just a normal trip, but some part of her had known it wasn’t a trip that one could return from.

“How did you end up in Arendelle?” Yelena had never thought that Elsa could have been part Northuldra, never considered it, even knowing it now didn’t make it make any more sense.

“During the battle that erupted, I found Prince Agnarr unconscious and Gale helped me get him out of the forest before the mist fell.” She had never been so afraid in her life, not until Elsa's birth and then Anna's accident, but both of those would come much later.

“I always wondered why the spirits would gift an Arendellian with magic.”

“She’s not though, not fully,” Elsa and Anna were children of both cultures, even if they hadn’t been raised like that. She takes the full blame for that; she had only told Anna because she couldn’t justify keeping the secret without her husband’s fear to justify it. Elsa had been treated as a foreigner in a land that should have been her home. “Did you know my parents?”

“Who were they?”

“Erke and Laila,” she and her family had been close to where the fires and battle had started, her parents had told her to run and she had. She regrets not turning back one final time to see them. She had turned back to help a fallen prince but not her own parents.

Yelena wracks her brain, “Do you remember your family symbol?” Iduna does, it was one of the few Northuldra symbols she had retained, marking the ground with the three diamonds that had denoted her family long before the crest of Arendelle. Both of her parents had seen fire in their trials. “I was younger then, but I heard that they passed during the battle, struck down by soldiers, I’m sorry,” Yelena means this, many had lost their lives between the initial battle all subsequent ones; and many more would lose their lives trying to leave the forest.

“I had always guessed, but now I know,” Iduna replies somberly.

“Your roots are deep in the tribe; they were part of an old family.”

“Yes, but I was their only child.”

“Your daughters are part of this legacy now.”

“Elsa probably knows more about it than I do at this point,” she should have told her husband, she should have told their daughters sooner.

“Elsa has immersed herself in our culture, but she was never fully accepted, this revelation may change something but not everything,” Yelena confirms her fears. “She has made the forest her home, regardless of what everyone thought of her. Does your other daughter know?”

“She does, I only told her recently though.”

“Well enough.”

“Where do you think she and Anna are headed?” Iduna remembers her initial mission, even if Elsa and Anna were already far away, she could still head that direction and try and meet them on their way back.

“Elsa has mentioned hearing a voice calling out to her, she and the others are likely following the sound of the voice.”

“Where do you think that is?”

“Somewhere north, only Ahtohallen knows,” Iduna remembers the old chief, he was a serious old man who scared a lot of the village children. He had cared for all of the Northuldra and their families and had brokered the deal with the envoys of Arendelle. He obviously wasn't still around if Yelena was the chief now. 

“I know that song, I sang it to the girls a lot when they were growing up,” it had been one of the few touchstones she had with her culture.

“We have legends of old fifth spirits a human with the ability to commune with the spirits and bridge the understanding between humans and nature.”

“And you think that’s what Elsa is?”

“I truly don’t know what Elsa is, other than a human with far too much destiny forced upon her.” Iduna remembered the old stories of the fifth spirit, but that’s all they were stories. A human that could bridge the gap between humans and nature? It was preposterous. “Was Elsa born with those powers? Or was she cursed?” Yelena knew and believed what Elsa had told her, but she wanted the confirmation.

“She was born with them, when she was only a few weeks old snow started to appear at her fingertips,” Iduna could remember that like it was yesterday, Elsa had been a too easy baby, even with her magic. “We didn’t know what to think of it, she was always so cold and when she was born, we were afraid that she was stillborn.” Yelena nods along with her rambles, Elsa had never felt the cold, it made enough sense that she would have been cold even as a baby. “What happened to the old fifth spirt?”

“They died,” Yelena says it plainly, she didn’t want to think about it any more than Iduna did, but it was a possibility. It always had been. Iduna was a member of their tribe, she had to remember at least some of this. “Powers like Elsa’s can’t be contained forever, they must return to the earth sooner or later,” the story of the old fifth spirit was a children’s bedtime story; of a tribes member who could control the wind at will and sacrificed themselves to save their people. It was supposed to be cautionary, but it was often told more fantastically. That was the version her parents had told her.

“What can we do? How do we stop that from happening?” Elsa could very well not be the fifth spirit, but even if she wasn’t, she had taken on the task of one—which posed the same risks. One of the few traits that had stayed with Elsa over the years was tenacity, it was one that Anna shared and together they were both in danger.

“We can’t stop it, only Elsa can make the right choices for her, and hopefully the rest of us,” and that was the scariest thing, Elsa had grown up without so much guidance that they should have given her and was now tasked with saving all of them. 

“Have you seen Kristoff? Whatever does happen, we need to be ready for whatever comes next,” Iduna tries to push back the bile that builds up in her throat at what that future could be.

“I saw him head off with Ryder last night, spirits knows what they’re doing, I’ll take you to them.”

-

Ryder and Kristoff had met the night before. Elsa hadn’t officially introduced them, nor had they had an official or important meeting, but they had bonded immediately. Their shared love of reindeer had bonded them more than anything else ever could have.

“You’re lucky, I know absolutely nothing about women, but I do know something about Northuldra proposals,” Ryder had had male friends before, but never someone who _got_ him like Kristoff did. He wasn’t willing to let that go easily.

“How does that work?” Kristoff had been wandering the unknown territory before this. Sven was having the time of his life, and he didn’t want to interrupt. He and Ryder had met and struck up something rather quickly. “Didn’t you grow up with nothing but women?”

“…Yes,” Ryder replies after a beat, it was true that he had mostly grown up with just Yelena and Honeymaren, and later Elsa, but he still knew nothing about romance. “My sister is engaged, and many people have trusted me with gathering the reindeer for their own proposals, and that has to mean something?” Ryder had been essential in at least ten different proposals, none of which included his sister’s. (He’s not mad, but he’s a little insulted that two of the most important women in his life hadn’t utilized his skills. Then again they hadn’t really proposed at all, they just got engaged)

“I guess so?” Kristoff replies, not totally assured, but he was willing to try anything at this point. He wanted to marry Anna, and nothing was working thus far. He had failed throughout the kingdom and with many different methods and he needed a new approach.

Anna had avoided the question in the gardens and misunderstood his propositioning in the sled and now he was out of options. He loved Anna more than anyone, and there were no other avenues to show it. Maybe this would work.

Ryder had gathered the reindeer as promised, Kristoff had spent all night capturing the butterflies, which wasn’t a requirement, but he had to do _something_. (Anna had told him of her heritage, but it hadn’t really sunken in until this. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone else and he had been honored. Now faced with the actual cultural ramifications of her heritage was something else. He wanted to do things right but really, he had no idea what that entailed)

They had spent much of the night preparing and by the time that the sun had risen he is exhausted. Catching butterflies is harder than anyone would bother to explain to him. They’re meaner and faster-moving than the ones he’s used to. Ryder helps, but his night is filled with nothing but butterflies and exhaustion. By the time that dawn is finally cresting over the horizon he’s so delirious he doesn’t care how horrible he probably looks, he was ready and he would get this right sooner or later.

Kristoff sees the briefest figure approaching their clearing and starts his speech.

“Anna, my amazing, feisty, ginger princess, I love you more than anything or anyone—Will you marry me?” Ryder releases the butterflies that they had painstakingly collected over the night, and it’s supposed to be this amazing moment, but all Kristoff feels is dread.

The figure approaches, it’s only then that Kristoff realizes that she isn’t Anna, “No,” Yelena says bluntly before stepping aside to reveal Iduna. Kristoff tries to not let himself deflate in public.

(Kristoff had met Iduna several times before he had asked for Anna’s hand in marriage. Iduna had liked him from some point onwards from him informing her of Hans and continued on afterward. She had granted him permission quickly and easily and Kristoff has never been so relieved in his life)

“Kristoff, Anna, and Elsa left last night, I need you to help me follow them,” Iduna had always wielded some power over Kristoff. Whether because she had some sovereignty over him or because he respected her as the mother of the girl he loved, he’s not sure.

“Okay,” he says because really, he would do anything for Anna, even follow her into the unknown after she had left him alone.

-

Anna had to wring as much water out of her cloak as she could before helping Olaf find his nose and arms. “What else can go wrong today?” She laments.

“I don’t know Anna; we could get attacked by bears or giants or …”

“Olaf that wasn’t a question, I don’t want to give the universe any ideas.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Elsa has to be doing better than we are,”

“Olaf, Elsa is probably trying to fight a bear or something with her bare hands, there is no way that is better than being trapped in a cave,” Anna feels the opening to a thin passageway.

“Do you think Elsa could win against a bear?” Olaf strikes a stick against his coal and it catches alight before he leads the way into the pathway.

“I have no idea,” she doesn’t remember Elsa being nearly this headstrong, real or fake memories. “Honeymaren’s with her though, hopefully, she can keep her out of danger.” Her sister’s fiancé hopefully had a better sense of self-preservation than her sister did. “I can’t believe that she was just going to not tell me about father! He tried to kill her! And she was just going to let me live my life idolizing him?” Anna wants to scream and with the threat of the earth giants passed she does. She had loved her father so much and now she had to live with what he did. Elsa was really going to let the fact that their father had tried to murder her slide? Elsa was literally a child when the accident happened and did father really blame her for something that any kid could have done? Did her sister really trust her so little? “I’m just—I’m just angry, first mother kept all of these secrets from me and then Elsa was totally willing to keep another, worse, secret form me and what does that mean? Does everyone in my life just not trust me with anything?”

“I trust you, Anna,” Olaf pats her arm reassuringly before turning to continue leading them down their dark path.

“Thanks, Olaf, but it’s not the same, you haven’t known me that long,” and really how different was that from Elsa? She and Elsa had been incredibly close for years and then went no-contact and then Elsa had died but not really. She didn’t know her sister well, and Elsa didn’t know her well. It was hard to blame someone who had their whole life ripped away from them from a young age. (Her life had been ripped away from her too, but their parents had returned hers, not completely, but they had given her as much as they could back and more)

“Did you know that water has memory?” Olaf says suddenly, he pulls Anna out of her musings.

“Wait, what does that mean?” They had exited the narrow pathway and come to an open dead-end.

“Like back at the boat, Elsa pulled memory right out of the water stuck in the wood,” Olaf joins her in looking for an exit.

“That can’t be right,” Anna searches high and low for an exit to the cave.

“It’s true, many people doubt it but it’s true,” Olaf says this with total confidence, and Anna can’t tell whether to be hysterical or glad for the distraction.

“Where did you learn that?”

“I don’t know, I think someone told it to me,” and Anna tries to not scoff. She had no idea what Olaf was made of, or what he knew, but it couldn’t be composed of much more than the bond between estranged sisters. He couldn’t know the grief Anna had gone through, _twice_. The loss of Elsa first to her room and second to ‘bandits’. The fact and the realization that their family had been torn apart twice, both by the man who had raised and loved her and tried to kill her sister just for being different.

Anna feels a chill go down her spine and turns to see Elsa’s magic swirls around her before forming two statues. One of a praying Northuldra man and the other of an Arendellian man raising his sword. The ice statue doesn’t move, and it doesn’t have to for Anna to get the message. Her people, everyone in this forest, this was the guide to saving them.

“Grandfather?” Anna had spent the years that Elsa was in isolation isolated in the long hallways of the castle. She saw her parents often but never her sister. Having no other playmates Anna had taken to talking to the pictures on the wall. Joan, arguably her favorite photo and best friend, had been an ever-present confidant.

“That’s your grandfather?” Olaf joins her in examining the statues. “I see where Elsa gets it from,” he giggles but Anna doesn’t share his mirth.

“He’s holding a sword to an unarmed man; he’s attacking someone who isn’t a threat!” Anna had learned the same Arendellian history that everyone else did. The few times that the Northuldra were mentioned in an official capacity it was when Arendelle had graciously gifted them a symbol of peace and the Northuldra had attacked them. Their old gods hadn’t taken too kindly to this and trapped them with their own mistakes. “It was all a trick, the dam wasn’t a gift of peace, it was a declaration of war,” her family lying to her seemed to be a recurring theme today, grandfather hadn’t been a noble king, he had been a coward like their father, “We need to destroy the dam,” Anna says with no great reluctance. Destroying the dam would flood Arendelle. Destroying the castle and possibly the rest of the city. And yet she knew that there were no other options. Her sister, despite the years of abuse and neglect, would never choose mindless destruction over peace. She knows this about her sister. She takes the vision with no small reverence.

Anna rights herself quickly, she knew what they needed to do, consequences be damned.

“Come on Olaf, Elsa’s probably on her way back by now, we can meet her and—" Her eye catches the snow swirling in the air around her. She turns to Olaf and sees his essence flurrying away.

“Anna, I don’t think Elsa is okay,” Olaf says simply as he reaches out to her. Anna, despite everything that had gone on, holds him. (Olaf was nothing more than a creation of their sisterly bond. She and Elsa had made him a hundred times before everything else. But he was real, and that negated everything that this was supposed to stand for)

“Olaf! You’re flurrying!” She gathers him up in her arms fully. Elsa’s creations had never destroyed themselves like this, they had gone away only with her consent. Elsa would never consent to this.

“I love you,” Anna feels the tears that had threatened to fall all day burst forth in an unstoppable torrent.

“I love you too, and you know what? I like warm hugs,” the last of Olaf melts away and Anna truly doesn’t know what to do with herself. She feels the darkness around her wrap around her like a too comfortable blanket and it’s then that she knows that it’s really over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are slowly but surely marching towards the end of this fic, I've never written anything this long or semi-regularly updated, so thanks to all the support I've gotten so far!


	11. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa goes too far

She’s very thankful that she learned how to swim. In her years spent in isolation, and even those before, she had never ventured into the water. The fjord was best utilized by boats and Arendelle had little coastline that wasn’t craggy. The few areas that weren’t were not places that princesses went.

(She had heard, mostly from her windows, of other girls and boys her own age braving the rocky coast to enjoy the last vestiges of summer. She couldn’t miss the squeals of delight that made even her look out her window with longing. She had even heard the rumors of Anna sneaking off to try her own luck at the watery depths, she’s sure that these are true, Anna could never shy away from danger, no matter how mundane. After everything that her father put her through, she has little time left to mourn the loss of something as trivial as swimming. _Freedom_ was the thing that had really been stolen from her)

Elsa learned, like many things in her life, that the only way to learn was to do. She couldn’t learn about her powers other than by practicing her control. Her years in isolation had only proved that not that she had known it at the time. She couldn’t learn how to skin a rabbit or gut a fish without doing it herself. (She will admit to throwing up at least once while learning and no more than that—although it was more like two or three times in real-time) Swimming was not one of those things. Rather than a slow introduction with the basics laid out for her, Ryder had instead pushed her into a deep part of the river and hoped for the best.

Honeymaren had to pull her out of the water after she didn’t figure out how to save herself within the first 60 seconds. (She doesn’t think she was at risk for drowning but Ryder is taken off as her swim coach indefinitely) Elsa learns eventually—like many things in her life, fear, was the main thing standing in her way.

(When she’s finally ready again, she lets Ryder push her back into the river, she panics for a long moment before she remembers that she knows how to swim and that even if she didn’t, there were people who would save her)

Her childhood in the woods had been largely unsupervised. It had been a strange adjustment period, going from a life under constant surveillance and scrutiny to a one where _she_ had control over the majority of her days. And some of those days she would find a place in one of the many rivers or streams because there were no rocky fjords and the water above the dam was strictly Arendelle territory, and just float. Because that was what she wanted to do. And this was the freedom she wanted, just to be allowed to have days where she didn’t have to be anything or anyone. Today was not one of those days and, she suspected, the ones that followed may not be either.

She’s infinitely grateful to know how to swim now. Staring down the waves that reach far overhead and the sea that she has no choice but to cross. She had to find who or whatever was calling to her; she had to free her people, to save Arendelle. There was no turning back.

Elsa’s relieved that she didn’t allow anyone to follow her into the dark sea. It was a mistake to bring them into the fold in the first place. (She knows that she would never have made it there, found out what she needed to know, without them, but she regrets it all the same) The utter exhaustion that she felt after using her powers to see her father’s last moments hadn’t left her. Honeymaren had all but carried her this far, it was too much to ask for. All of it was.

She had stripped off all of her excess layers before she had sent Maren back home. She knows that it was a mistake to begin this journey with anyone. This wasn’t something she could do with anyone else, she had to do this alone.

(Something in her mind had told her that there were things that she needed to do alone, She can’t say for sure whether it was the same voice that called to the forest and called her into the unknown, but it calls her all the same and that must mean something. As much as she never wanted to be alone after the years of isolation there were things that needed just her. And as much as she hated them and the whole idea; they wouldn’t shut up.

She had done things alone since she was a child. She had had to deal with the repercussions of the accident alone. She had hurt Anna, no matter how accidentally, and she had to live with that. She had lived in a world that was nothing more than four walls, and she had learned to live with it. She had given up her freedom easily and willingly, and she had no good excuse as to why—she wanted her parents to like her, and maybe that was the worst sin of all. She had lived alone for years to keep her family alive and slowly died as the year went on.

She wasn’t a child anymore. She didn’t have to do that anymore.

There was a voice that called to her that had saved her life. She is only able to realize how much she was ready to lay down and die later. How much she was ready for everything to be over and done. It had led her family back to her, what was left of it, anyway. It had guided her this far, she had to see what the voice saw in her. Why it saved her. And hope that it could save everyone else too)

She tries to hype herself up, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet before taking off into the water.

She forms quick platforms under her steps as she tries to beat the crest of the first wave. She blats an ice ramp to brunt the force of the wave and she scales as quickly as she can, but it cracks under the sheer pressure and force of the waves and she falls back in the ocean. The remnants of the ramp falling right along with her. The ocean has the decency to spit her out and she spits out a lungful of water. As soon as that’s done, she rushes back into the storm.

She’s almost positive that a few of her ribs are bruised if not broken by the third or fourth time the ocean spits her back out. She had both felt and heard a crack when she had slammed up against one of her unintended ice floes. Which is made more worrying as she could barely hear her own thoughts over the sound of waves. It’s harder to breathe and not just due to her exhaustion. But failure wasn’t an option.

She rushes at the ocean again; she would do it as many times as it took; she uses her powers to create steps that get her as far as the first large wave. She dives underneath it this time, finding purchase on a large rock and sliding down a ramp before ice stepping into the next wave. Another ramp forms at the mere thought and shatters as she’s about halfway up it.

Crashing back into the sea she sees a pair of glowing eyes. Their eyes meet for only a second before the creature dissolves into the rest of the sea. Elsa swims towards the surface.

She creates a raft out of ice as she tries to catch her breath. Climbing atop it she manages to make it over the next wave before the creature knocks her off her place and back into the waters below. It doesn’t wait before it uses its hooves to push her further into the depths of the ocean.

As the water horse tries to drag her deeper and deeper into the ocean, Elsa finally lashes out with her powers. They connect for only a moment, her powers surging through the horse, the _Nokk_ , she corrects herself now. This was the water spirt, the only one she had yet to meet personally. The last obstacle between her and Ahtohallen. The Nokk shakes her hands off and kicks her further in the water.

Elsa blasts ice in the opposite direction to propel herself towards the surface and manages to gasp a few greedy breaths, before creating a quick raft that last for only a moment before the Nokk crashes through it sends her back into the waves. It knocks the breath out of her lungs, and she swallows water in her haste to catch her breath. Her vision goes black for a moment.

(She remembers riding horses, that had been a hobby befitting the heir to the throne. Her riding instructor had called her prodigious, not to her face of course, heirs were not to be pompous, but word got around. The same skills hadn’t translated one-to-one on reindeer, but she had learned enough to not be left out the few times she accepted invitations to the reindeer games. This was important, she knows this, she just can’t remember exactly why)

When she forces her eyes open again the Nokk is dragging her by the arm, back towards the shore, by the looks of it she’s much closer to the shore than she was when the water horse had started to drown her—there’s a tearing pain her shoulder that she’s sure she would have noticed if everything else didn’t also hurt, that threatens to rip it asunder. She feels fire and ice burn in her veins as she remembers why she was putting herself through this. Using her free hand, she blasts the horse’s face with reins made of ice and manages to pull herself on its back. It tries to buck her off, and Elsa feels every broken and bruised part of her body scream in protest, but she holds steady with her good arm and the Nokk finally breaks and lets her lead it towards Ahtohallen. The waves and the storm that had nearly killed her on foot nothing more than minor barriers now that the Nokk was on her side.

Ahtohallen was ice. An entire glacier of frozen memories. She sees it crest over the horizon and nearly cries in relief. The waves don’t calm, but they’re no match for the water spirit. Nokk easily circumvents the treacherous waves, stopping right at the entrance to the glacier. Even without the sun, it takes her breath away.

“Thank you,” she offers the spirit as she dismounts, waving away the reins she had used to control them. The Nokk ripples in glee and dives back into the ocean. Elsa turns and enters.

She’s struck with how different its ice was from her own. Her own had always shone, no matter how minutely with its magical properties, easily differentiating it from the natural kind. But this was otherworldly. As she walks further and further into the depths of Ahtohallen every touch illuminates the four sigils deeply embedded in the ice. She wants to stay, to study how it was even possible for the signs to be so embedded in natural ice, but the voice compels her on.

She’s sure that, even if she wanted to, she could have never brought another human here. She couldn’t feel the cold and even she could tell how otherworldly and cold the place had to be.

“Please, whatever you are, tell me how to save my people,” Elsa pleads as the voice draws her deeper into the abyss. She crosses a gorge easily with some well-placed pillars and continues her journey. There was no fear left in her body, the space below was nothing compared to everything else. Landing on the other side she hits a slide and coasts further into the glacier. The area that opens up to a flat area dominated by fallen columns. She clears the fallen columns with ease and moved onwards. The voice only got louder the further she got into Ahtohallen. Her tribe, Arendelle, everyone needed her to save them. She couldn’t fail them. Not now.

She walks through the entryway she created.

The voice changes, no longer sounding like something alien, and it’s only then that she knows that she knows the voice. She just had never heard it like this. `

The dome that she enters is pitch-black. The voice calls to her for the final time, she has no way of knowing this, but she knows it all the same. She had never heard it so raw and unfiltered, without the layers and layers of ice clouding and changing it. It had been her only companion in her years of isolation. It was the same one that she heard when she had spoken to herself alone in her room. It had been the one she had heard echoing back to her during her coming of age trials—her dreams had been nothing but ice, of nothing but Ahtohallen, she realizes now, of nothing but echoes of the voice that she hadn’t heard from in years. Of herself. Of what she was supposed to be. Of who she could be.

The realization alone should knock herself off her feet. But it’s only then that the dome lights up with the sigils of the elements and Elsa is left breathless all over again. They fall gracefully to the floor and seem to wait for her to join them.

She wants this, she realizes however belatedly. She wanted to know herself and she wanted to save her people. This part of herself that had always seemed superfluous, the part that mattered the most, were one and the same. The voice that had saved her, that had wanted her, that had called to her, had just been some part of her looking for the rest of her. Some part of her that just wanted to be whole. _She_ wanted to be whole.

Stepping into the center she feels her powers break their final barrier. She feels every particle in her being pulse with power. She feels her powers sing out in pure joy at the connection. She feels her and Ahtohallen finally connect.

The ice around her glows in approval and her ice-clothes change of their own volition. The blue traveling clothes melting away to a white dress and leggings, the sigils so embedded in the walls around them merge into the dress. The voice doesn’t ring in her head anymore, she doesn’t need it to—she calls out herself and Ahtohallen answers.

Memories project themselves on the walls, every moment of her life swirls around in vivid blues and greys.

There was no fifth spirit to find. The voice calling out to her had just been a part of herself that wanted to be whole. There was nothing and no one out there who had all the answers to save her people. _She_ was the fifth spirit, and she would have to find her own answers.

Elsa feels her powers swirl around her, utterly limitless, and she lets them loose. She swirls the mist that forms and lets her powers do what they’ve been itching to. Figures of ice come to life in the blink of an eye.

These water memories were nothing like the one she had conjured with Gale, or at the ship. Fully animated ice statues illustrate every moment, even the ones that she had never seen. The last water memory she had attempted to do alone had pushed her powers past their limits. (She had felt something inside of her break, and her bloody nose was proof enough for everyone else) Some part of her knows that that limit didn’t exist anymore.

There’s too much going on to focus on one thing. Memories of all kinds walk past her and she wants to see everything. The first thing to catch her eye is a battle.

She watches a fight break between the Arendellian soldiers and Northuldra during the reindeer games. She can’t tell who threw the first strike, but she sees the devastation that results from it. She watches her father be knocked unconscious by a stray stone, it was nothing deadly, but it could have been. If not for her mother. She watches her mother save her father from the battle with Gale’s help.

Her mother had no idea what she was doing but she wanted to do the right thing, or whatever came after that. She had escaped the battle and stowed away to a land that she had never been to and didn’t know the language to because she wanted to help. And Elsa understands that at least. She understands that more than she’s ever understood anything about either of her parents.

She sees, out of the corner of her eye, her parents meet and almost fall in love at that very moment. But it was the time that they grew together that made them a good couple. They had loved each other and still kept secrets from each other.

She sees her mother willing herself to finally tell her husband the truth of her background but her words failing her every time. She sees her father never speak of the accident again.

She couldn’t dwell on these scenes. They didn’t have the answers she sought, and she couldn’t afford to get caught up in everything else.

She sees a younger version of herself showing her powers off for the first time in front of Honeymaren. How nervous she was and how awestruck Maren was. She wants to hold onto that memory tightly, but it didn’t hold the answers she seeks.

She watches a version of Anna, only a few years younger than she was now, introduce herself to a well-dressed ice statue, “Prince Hans, of the southern isles,” she waves her hand and lets the statue crumble. She would get all the juicy details from Anna herself.

She watches the entire scenery change, it’s Arendelle, ravaged by a windstorm that, even the mere echoes of, nearly knock her off her feet. She feels the earth shake underneath her feet and lights leave the city. This was also at stake and she moves on.

Elsa sees clearly the vision of herself cowering in front of her father with his drawn sword. She clenches her fists. She wants to turn away, to not give this long-dead version of her father the satisfaction that this still affected her; (She had nightmares for years, she had woken up almost screaming for years) but she has to face this. She had been avoiding it for years this was something that she had to face.

She watches the memory that haunted her for years play out in slow motion. She watches her father call her a monster and ride away. And some part of her, the part she had hidden and resented for years, wants to follow that version of her father. To see what he did next, to see how he lived with himself after that, to see if there really was a moment where he regretted what he did. But that wouldn’t change anything. Her hands unclench.

She finds the hatred for her father dredged up by the shipwreck and the living memory leaving her. She doesn’t find forgiveness in her heart for him, but she didn’t fear him anymore. She turns away from the memory and keeps looking.

She feels a chill in the air for the first time and turns to find the source.

“We’ll bring the full guard,” an older man in full Arendellian regalia walks past her with another statue trailing quickly behind.

“Grandfather?” Elsa says aloud, desperately trying to remember what he would have looked like as she starts to trail after them. She had never studied the paintings that littered the castle hallways like Anna had, never had the opportunity nor the interest.

“But the Northuldra have given us no reason to mistrust them,” the foot soldier says.

“The Northuldra follow magic, which means we can never trust them. It makes them think they are too powerful, too entitled. That they have the power to defy the will of a king,” Grandfather, King Runeard, she’s sure now, says with all the conviction he would need to force unruly subjects to submit. He and his assistant disappear past the cloud of memories.

“That is not what magic does,” magic had changed her life in innumerable ways. She had hated herself for so long just because she possessed it, her father had grown to hate it and her. Magic had trapped the Northuldra in the forest for decades.

Magic hadn’t been the one to ruin her family, they had done that all on their own. Magic had helped her save her people from an unending winter. Magic had protected her from herself.

“You, you were the reason my father tried to kill me,” _we can’t trust the Northuldra people, their connection to magic is dangerous,_ “The only thing dangerous is your fear,” fear had ruled her life for too long. Her grandfather had let fear rule his life, he had let it infect and ruin her father’s life and almost her own, it was time that the cycle ended.

She cuts through the mist and follows the figures deeper into Ahtohallen.

_Not too far or you will drown_

Elsa had heard that line over and over again, from the nights in the castle to her first few nights in the forest. It was a common lullaby for mothers in the tribe to sing to their children. (This was her first clue, even if she didn’t know it at the time)

She knew the lullaby well, and the message would always ring loud in her mind, but she had to know the truth about her grandfather. The voice that had compelled her this far is gone; it had been a part of her for as long as she had been alive, it had just taken her this long to realize it. She forces herself on.

She still didn’t have an answer for her people.

She follows her grandfather to the edge of a chasm. She peers over the edge for only a moment before her decision is made. Elsa leaps into the chasm and lands hard on the ground below. The landing agitated her already abused ribs and arm, but she can’t dwell on the pain for long because she feels the cold for the first time in her life.

It was painful, every inch of her was trembling and there was nothing she could do as the cold permeated every fiber of her being. She wraps her arms around herself in a gesture she had seen many a person do before and follows her grandfather into the frozen forest.

“The dam will not help the forest or my people, it will weaken the forest!” A Northuldra man, a chief, implores her grandfather to listen to him.

“Let’s talk about this on the fjord, over tea,” her grandfather dismisses him with a wave of his hand. His frozen figure having the same malicious look she had seen before in her father, only once. She tries to follow him but finds her feet frozen to the ground.

The frost climbs her legs and claims her torso as the scene morphs into the next. She feels the blood in her veins start to grind to a halt.

She watches the shape of her grandfather raise a sword over the head of the praying Northuldra chief and feels her vision start to go black.

Elsa reaches out her arm with the last of her strength; it was just enough to send one final message; she hopes that it reaches.

Elsa has enough consciousness left to regret not giving her final moments to Honeymaren, but Anna needed to know the truth so she could fix what their grandfather had done. Her people would finally be free. And she could die knowing that Anna would save them, she trusted her sister to do this, more than anything. Elsa looks up one last time and sees only her reflection freezing along with her. Then everything cuts to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	12. last night on earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closest thing to the next right thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if anyone saw when I updated this last night, I just learned about the weird posting order that happens when you post in the middle of the night. So, I've been messing around with posting times to see how that works.  
> Anyway, I'm still amazed at how many people have read and enjoyed this fic, so thanks to everyone who's followed the story thus far.

After Elsa’s last bit of magic disappears Anna doesn’t know how long she just sits there sobbing.

For a very long time, Elsa hadn’t even seemed like a real person, it was hard to mourn the idea of a sister. She cried at her funeral because everyone else was crying because it was too hard to miss someone, she knew only in passing; a person that her parents had only allowed her to know superficially. Now that knew her sister was a real person, with dreams, and a family of her own it was so much worse.

The version of Elsa that her parents had told her about was deathly ill, frail to the point where she could be easily shattered. The memories that the trolls had given her painted Elsa in much the same way that her real memories did, a loving, caring older sister. Who would do anything for her younger sister.

Her memories had righted themselves slowly over the years but everything hadn’t clicked until she saw her sister again. Elsa’s powers were a wonder when she was young girl. When she had been especially young, she had tried to shoot ice out her own hands. _If her sister could do it, then why couldn’t she?_ She never was able to form ice but Elsa was never afraid of sharing. And the accident, _they were both children what else could it be other than an accident_ , she didn’t even have the memories to comfort her, not really at least.

Elsie became her surrogate sister because the real one was no longer available to her, to anyone. Elsie could be anything because Elsa could have been anyone behind that door. And Anna remembers losing the doll sometime after Elsa’s ‘death’, and she had cried nonstop until her focus was shifted to some other toy that her parents had bought for her in Corona.

Anna’s family had been fractured in so many different ways. They had caused most of their own pain and had nothing to show for it.

(She had been so excited to have someone to talk to about _everything_ really. She couldn’t exactly tell her mother about the intricacies of her relationship with Kristoff—her sister, no matter how different her priorities and proclivities were would have something that only they could talk about.

They had been so close as children and they could be close again, or rather could have been)

And maybe she’s been crying for too long but she can’t help but let her thoughts wander everywhere they hadn’t dared for years.

The revelation hadn’t just been that for her, it had been an upheaval. It had been the way out she had been looking for for years. She wanted her sister to take the throne instead of her, Elsa would be a better queen than she ever would. She had been prepared since birth and, despite all the years living in the remote wilderness, would undoubtedly know how to rule a modern kingdom. She needed the pressure of ascending the throne off of her, if only for a short while. And none of that was a good plan but she wanted it anyway.

She wanted to dig her father up from whatever depths of the ocean he had landed in just so she could scream at him herself. She wanted to have the time to be furiously angry at him on her own time, without all of this other bullshit going on. He had tried to murder her sister just because she was different and then lied to everyone about it! He had handed her the crown without a thought. He had made her mother mourn twice over for almost nothing. He had changed their lives irrevocably and then just left.

And she lets rage burn under her skin for a moment because she still wanted her family to be proud of her, even her bastard of a father. And if all she was was a spare, she wanted them to choose her anyway. The rational part of her brain knows that that hadn’t been true in years, mostly due to her father’s machinations, but still.

She just wanted her sister to be proud of her, to see her as a real person in the way that she couldn’t. But that was a fallacy. Elsa had always seen her as a real person, as someone capable of everything, as her sister. Elsa hadn’t seen her in years but she had always seen her. The fleeting and few moments that she had been able to spend with her sister after everything, she knew this. As much as she didn’t want to talk about their relationship, Elsa had believed in them and their family, after everything, despite everything.

She believed in her enough to trust her to save everyone and if Anna couldn’t believe in herself, she could believe in that.

She and Elsa and their mother could have had a future as a family. Elsa hadn’t even gotten to talk to their mother again. There was no time, then an infinite amount, then none at all again and Anna feels her dry eyes sprout more tears. She’s shaken out of her latest crying jag by a single thought.

_The dam!_

That was what Elsa had used the last moments of her life to tell her. The dam needed to fall for Arendelle, for the forest to even have the possibility of a future. She didn’t need to see the whole picture to understand. She couldn’t afford to wait for another sign that wouldn’t come.

Outside the sun starts to rise and the sun peaks ever so slightly into the small opening of the cave. And Anna sees the light both literally and figuratively.

She packs up Olaf’s coal, sticks, and carrot and starts the slow climb out. She needed to do this for Elsa, for everyone. She couldn’t fix their family’s mistakes in their entirety but at least she could do the next right thing.

-

Gale spits her out some ways away from the village. It’s not gentle and seems almost as angry at her as she is at Elsa. She rips the stray leaves out of her hair so hard that long strands of dark hair come along with it—she’s so angry that she doesn’t even feel the pain that should be associated with it. If anything, it only makes her angrier.

“What the hell? Gale, come back here!” Honeymaren yells as Gale starts off in some other direction, the spirit had become more friendly over the years and added a small swirl of leaves so the mere mortals among them could tell where it was, but it ignores her as she screams into the lifeless wind, “Come back here! You can’t just be on Elsa’s side just because she’s one of you!” And this is too far. She knows this but she can’t stop herself. Elsa was one of them, that was why she had slowly but surely abandoned every one of the few companions that had the gall to accompany her to the unforgiving north. That was why she had chosen to protect them in the only way that Elsa knew how.

(By the time that they had moved in together Maren had been well-acquainted with Elsa’s nightmares. She and Ryder had both been heavy sleepers by nature but on occasion, nature would call at the same time that Elsa would scream. She had rarely ever been so terrified in her entire life. She had heard the sounds of the reindeer slaughter, it was an inevitable part of life, as much as the animals protested it was part of the circle of life. Their end help bring new life to the world and sustain the lives already in it. Ryder had strived to understand them more than she ever had, reindeer didn’t fear death once they knew it was coming, they wanted it to be over quickly. Elsa never cried out for help, she begged for it all to end.

The nightmares gradually decrease in frequency and authenticity as Elsa places years between her and the incident in question. But it’s not like either of them could ever forget.

Elsa would tell her later how her father had attempted to kill her in earnest. Only after years and years of trying to kill her in spirit. Elsa doesn’t tell her this outright but she understands what’s happened anyway.

She knows what it’s like to lose a parent, she’s lost both, but never the feeling of being so utterly rejected that they would try and kill their own child. She, and Ryder to a lesser extent, had felt the sting of not being enough for their parents. It wasn’t completely true but it wasn’t false either.

Their parents had left with several other adults one day, they had promised to return and then they hadn’t. They wanted to find a way out of the mist, to find a future for their people, and in the process had given up the chance to raise and shape the future. They hadn’t been the only children orphaned by their parent’s decisions, but she hoped that they could be the last. The storyteller in Honeymaren can’t help but love the irony of the story. The rest of her hates every fiber of it.

She missed her mother’s warmth and her father’s gentle hands. She misses the stories that she had grown up loving and grown unequivocally bitter towards. She despises the fact that Ryder’s memories of their parents have faded more every day.

And she hates the gods or spirits that would take her family away from her once more.

Elsa had sent them away because that was how she knew how to protect people, you got them away from _her_. Any maybe Elsa understood the message more than her father and the situation are more dissimilar than similar but Maren can’t help but draw a through-line. She doubts that Elsa will miss it either)

She thinks about heading north again, even if Elsa had sent her away, she could likely make it back to the dark sea to help her back home. But Gale compels her southwards. And it’s not like the wind spirit gives her much of a choice so she turns back towards the village.

She spends several hours angrily stomping through the woods, her rage doesn’t cool at all. If anything, it makes her angrier. As a child Yelena had often made her take walks to cool off—she had been so angry for so long after her parents had left and then had the sheer _audacity_ to die. She had screamed into the empty woods for hours until she felt better, and beat her knuckles against a tree or until everything stopped hurting so much. And it takes a long time for her to realize why this was a bad idea. (Yelena never wanted to spell it out for her, she says later that it was beneath both of them, and the stubborn part of Honeymaren can appreciate that) She eventually learns and the bruises on her knuckles heal and don’t scar over.

Some part of her had understood why Elsa had spent half of her days in the woods alone. She had been curious, but she still understood that some things needed to be done alone. When Elsa finally shows her what she does out in the woods she can’t help but feel privileged.

When either of them got overwhelmed, from Elsa’s powers to Maren’s anger they both would take walks to calm down. And Elsa had never officially invited her alone but she had never stopped her, and Honeymaren had never stopped Elsa from coming along on hers. Sometimes they would walk in silence and sometimes they would talk nonstop but being together was more important than whatever they did on their walks. It’s no comfort to her now as Elsa isn’t there to accompany her. She’s sure that the leaves that Gale left in her hair are all gone but she needs something to do so she unbraids and rebraids her hair compulsively.

(And maybe she’s a little dependent on Elsa. She wanted to be around her from the moment they met and once Elsa had shown her her powers, they only grew closer. It took her a painfully long time to realize how she felt for the other girl and even now it seemed surreal that they were reciprocated.

She always suspected that Elsa had a destiny that may not include her, that may not include anyone. She had powers from birth and a royal family that didn’t want her but owed her a birthright regardless. Elsa didn’t have to be any of that but she knew that Elsa would embrace whatever she had to to save their people. And of all the equality and fairness that she wants to assign to the world that seemed egregious.

Some part of her had always seen the loss of her parents and Elsa's appearance as an equalizer of sorts. A loss for a gain. Something that would balance out her losses and gains and keep the world that always threatened to spin off its axis in tune)

All she had ever wanted was a life with her family. And Elsa hadn’t left for the same reasons her parents had, but it felt the same. It still felt like a failure, even if it wasn’t. Even if it wasn't her fault.

She’s still hours away from the village after walking most of the night. Gale moves through her hair, and it’s not playful or even mean. Gale usually flitted between though two emotions. He didn’t have malicious streaks like Bruni but he wasn’t above goofing around. Gale flits through her hair in a way that’s almost like mourning. And Maren realizes why a moment later after it’s too late to do anything after it’s been too late for _hours_ now.

Maren feels the mark on her wrist begin to melt and knows that everything is over. She still had the reindeer that Elsa had given her all those years ago, it had never melted or changed even a little bit over the years—no matter how hot the summers got or how often Ryder had dangled it over the fire. Elsa’s creations didn’t melt. She can only watch in abject horror as the symbols that they had so lovingly picked out together melt off of her skin. The water that results is barely more than a trickle that isn’t even cold. The skin it exposes is lighter and carries only the vaguest memory of what used to be there. She traces the outline a few times in mourning.

There was no message in this grief, there was only proof that it had happened.

-

Anna makes it out of the cave much faster than she thought possible. Of course, once she’s out she has no idea where she is. She’s a bad judge without the sun but she probably still had an hour or so until the sun rose and she could start to see properly. So, she heads to the woods and pushes past her exhaustion to head towards the dam.

She sees a light out of the corner of her eye and thinks it the sun until a ball of fire narrowly misses her, singing the edges of her hair.

“Bruni? Is that you?” Anna turns quickly to see the salamander perched on a nearby rock. He licks his eyes in response and Anna accepts that as an answer. “Can you lead me to the dam?” He jumps off the rock and scurries off in the direction that she hopes is the dam. Before they get too far Bruni stops and lights himself up like a torch. At last a familiar face.

“She ditched you too?” is the first thing out of Anna’s mouth when she catches sight of Honeymaren stomping through the woods. Bruni illuminates her helpfully and he’s almost forgiven for nearly lighting her hair on fire a moment earlier.

At that Maren can’t help but laugh, even if more tears leak out than necessary, “Yeah, she had Gale send me away once we hit the dark sea,” she holds up her bare arm and Anna immediately notices the bare skin.

“I know,” Anna says ruefully, “Elsa sent me a message before she passed,” Anna is out of breath and out of tears.

“What was it?” Honeymaren hadn’t been crying, Anna knows this, she still looked like she was somewhere between shock and anger and Anna can’t tell if that’s better or worse than all the hours she spent crying.

“It was a memory, of our grandfather attacking a Northuldra man who wielded no weapon, it means we have to destroy the dam!” Anna isn’t excited by this prospect but

“How did you get there?” Her sister’s fiancée finally looks like something other than shocked.

“The dam was supposed to be a gift from Arendelle to the Northuldra, except it weakened the lands and would’ve caused the tribe to turn to Arendelle to help,”

“So, we’d become his subjects,” Honeymaren finishes her thought, “What can we do?”

“Help me get to the dam, we’ll find a way to destroy it when we get there.” Honeymaren nods in understanding and leads the way.

-

Kristoff and Iduna were lost. They had headed north to try and follow her daughters and had no idea where they were now.

Living in Arendelle had made her soft. She had packed for the trip to take as long as necessary but had never expected to actually be hiking this much. As a child, she had used the woods as an endless source of entertainment and known every path like the back of her hand.

Iduna initially had doubted that the forest had changed much in three or so decades, but it had and she had no idea where they were. They had spent the day walking the way that they thought Anna and Elsa had gone and ended up having to camp in an unfamiliar area.

She had called to Gale a few times in the hope that their connection still existed but had gotten no answer. It had been too long.

She’s glad that Kristoff had the foresight to bring Sven along with some of their supplies or they may have died out here. Probably not, but with the way their luck was going she didn’t want to tempt fate any more than they already had. They were likely already staying in Earth Giant territory, it couldn’t hurt to be extra careful. They didn’t have a tent or actual camping supplies but at least they had food.

“Where do you think they are?” Kristoff broaches after they’ve eaten their rations for the night. IT was too risky to light a fire so she can only just see his face in the darkness.

“I have no idea, Yelena said that they were heading north and they probably didn’t get as lost as we did, so maybe they’re more north than we are,” Iduna was lost no matter how you sliced it. She didn’t know her daughter’s as well as she thought she did, she didn’t know her husband at all, and she didn’t know the land that used to be her home. “Hopefully we can find them somewhere in the middle,” she says to end it because she has no idea how to end it, she had no idea how it was going to end. 

“Neither do I, hopefully, they’re safe at least,” Iduna nods in agreement though she’s sure that Kristoff can barely see her. Both of her daughters were grown women who could make their own decisions. She had to trust in that if she couldn’t do anything else.

“I liked your proposal this morning, even if it was misplaced,” she had said it before, and she would say it again, she liked Kristoff, both as a suitor for Anna and as a person. He had her permission, though he didn’t need it, for months and thus far it hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

“Thanks, I just want Anna to like it though,” he concedes, laughing for a moment, “Sorry, it doesn’t really matter if you like unless Anna gets to see it and says yes.”

“I’m sure there’s a right time for it, and I’m sure she’ll say yes when that time comes around.”

“There’s been a lot of right times, none of them have worked so far though,” Kristoff isn’t the type to get too dejected but his spirits had to be a little low. “I can’t even believe that Elsa is engaged,” Kristoff pivots to avoid talking about his own failures, not failures exactly, temporary setbacks.

“Neither can I,” she couldn’t, Elsa was dead then she was alive and _engaged_. After the whirlwind of the past few days, she should be as shocked as that as everything else but she finds it in herself to still be shocked. Anna got that from her. She wasn't disapproving of Honeymaren per se, but she had missed so much of her eldest's life already, she felt like a poor excuse for a mother who didn't know anything about her child's life. Elsa had a life partner who knew everything about her.

“I think you’d like Honeymaren if you talked to her,” Kristoff argues lightheartedly.

“Did you?”

“No, but I talked to Ryder and they’re related so that has to mean something,” Kristoff is messing with her, and she knows he’s smiling through the darkness. “Ryder’s known both of them since they were kids, he said that they’ve been insufferably in love since they were teenagers,” it was strange to think that Elsa could ever be insufferably in love, that had always been Anna’s specialty. And she should be happy that Elsa was able to have a normal childhood. But the lack thereof had been her fault, not hers exclusively but hers all the same, and that stops her short.

“I suppose so,” she replies, unable to form anything else coherent. They needed to rest if they were going to be of any use tomorrow. So, she shuts her eyes and prays that she gets the chance to talk to Elsa again.

-

She and Honeymaren smash through the forest to get closer to the dam. Where she climbed out of the cave hadn’t exactly been close to the dam. She lets cool anger replace sadness as Honeymaren tells her of the last she saw of her sister, charging headfirst into a raging sea. If Elsa were alive Anna would kill her herself.

“Anna!” She turns her head to see the source of the chorus of voices—her mother, Kristoff, and Sven.

“Where’s Elsa?” Her mother immediately asks, inspecting her closely for injuries, and Anna doesn’t have anything left in her to say exactly what happened.

“We need your help,” Honeymaren says instead of answering and Anna silently thanks her for this.

“What do you need?” Kristoff answers immediately,

“We need to destroy the dam, it will free the forest and save what’s left of Arendelle,” Kristoff knows what this means, all of them do but chooses to not comment on it and Anna hopes he knows how much she appreciates that.

“How?” Her mother was still processing everything that she said and trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Or rather the missing elephant.

“We can make the Earth Giants attack the dam,” Maren gestures to herself and Anna’s mother, “We’ll lead the giants this way, just make sure the soldiers are off the dam,” Anna agrees with this easily, it needed to be done sooner rather than later. Everyone had already been waiting for 35 years. Honeymaren drags her starstruck mother towards the gorge and Anna turns to Kristoff.

“Take me to the dam,” Kristoff hops astride Sven and pulls her up. Sven, having heard everything gallops towards the dam. They reach a wall and Kristoff boosts her up, “I’ll come around!” he shouts as she starts to scale the wall. Her blood sings in her veins and her heart threatens to pound out of her chest, but her hands find purchase easily as she throws herself onto the bridge of the dam.

In the distance she can hear the loud sound of stone against stone as the earth giants move slowly towards the dam.

She catches her breath for a moment before standing to meet the soldiers that had gathered at the edge of the bridge.

“Lieutenant Mattias, let me through,” she uses all of the regality that being the heir apparent should have brought to try and assuage any worries, Anna sees the moment that it fails. These soldiers had been left behind, no matter how unintendedly, and protecting this dam had been the one thing that kept them together, maybe even kept them sane. And she can’t fault them in this but she doesn’t have time to work through everything right now.

“We cannot let you break the dam,” Mattias draws his sword and blocks her path. He’s astute, she’ll give him that.

She feels the cool rage that had been simmering below the surface long gone, she feels ready to kill someone and before Anna can even fully register the words that come out of her mouth. “It’s the only way to save Arendelle! To free the forest!” Anna finds the words that needed to be said, she realizes that she’s almost screaming a moment later, but doesn’t care.

“It will destroy Arendelle!” Mattias roars back, matching her intensity more than her response.

“My sister gave her dying breath to send this message to us, the dam needs to fall in order for _anyone_ to have a future!” Anna pulls herself up to her full height then, “You told us that if we needed anything you would help us, and we need your help now.”

Mattias pauses for seconds that feel like hours, “I trusted your father and grandfather,” Anna doesn’t miss the way that his fists clench and trusts that he is on their side, “but I believe in Elsa,” he bangs his sword against his shield hard and she’s sure that the noise reverberates throughout her very soul.

He leads the soldiers in hitting their shields to draw the approaching giants’ attention towards the dam.

Anna finds herself sprinting across the top of the dam to draw their fire everywhere, everything needed to be destroyed and they would find a way after the destruction. The Northuldra had managed to survive in a land without sun, in a land drained by a dam they never asked for. Life found a way and they would too.

“Destroy the dam, come on! Over here!” She screams as the boulders fly. They smash into her path and she turns around only to see another boulder crash through her only escape path.

As the pathway crumbles beneath her feet she leaps and reaches out desperately, trying to find something to hold on in the open air. Before her terror turns palpable, her hand is enveloped by familiar calloused ones.

“I got her!” Kristoff yells as more hands reach over the edge to help pull her back up. The force flings up and into Kristoff’s waiting arms.

Her adrenaline gone, she lets Kristoff hold her as her tears come back full force.

-

Neither of them says anything as they rush to where the Earth Giants were resting. They didn’t know each other; they were united in their love for Elsa and their convictions in saving their people. And that had to be enough.

She could face anything and everything later. She would shoulder any blame she needed to for failing to save Elsa from herself. She could face Iduna fully if she could at least help fulfill Elsa’s last wish.

Maren and Iduna make as much noise as they can, screaming and yelling as the run along the gorge. The Earth Giants are slow to wake and even slower to attack but luckily, they do before both of them are hoarse.

They run screaming back towards the dam and hope that Anna can do the rest.

As the last of the boulders hit the dam and they both stand as still as they can as they watch it crumble. The wave that bursts through the ruins and heads presumably towards Arendelle. The water nearly fills the valley and rushes down to the fjord. Arendelle would be washed away in a matter of minutes.

And she trains her eyes on the sky, completely despondent to the scene going on around her. There are tears of joy and sadness as they slowly make their way over to the soldiers and Anna and Kristoff. And finally, after seconds or minutes or hours, the mist that had covered their skies for years starts to fade. Morning had broken and the sun burns through everything the light could touch.

As the mist clears for the first time in nearly forty years, Maren sees the sky for the first time. It opens up to a clear blue morning after one of the longest, darkest, nights of her life. And it’s only then that Maren realizes she’s known the color all along. She had seen it almost every day for the past 15 years. And it’s only then that she finally lets herself cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If anyone has any questions about this fic please feel free to leave them in the comments.


	13. there will be sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wave comes and the mist falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a weird chapter, almost filler-y, but I always wanted to include a chapter where we got to see how the actions of the royal family affected everyone else and this is what came of that. Originally it was just going to be little Arendelle stories but I decided to add Northuldra chapters as well yesterday.

Gerda remembered how full of life the caste had been years ago, before all of its doors were shut, before Elsa’s death, before the King’s. The two princesses rarely made public appearances but she was privy to some of their first moments. She was privy to many things. The girls were both rambunctious and kind before the castle gates closed and afterward only Anna was because Elsa wasn’t anything anymore.

She had been one of the few staff members kept on after the gates had been closed because she had seen everything and nothing. She and Kai had been tasked with cleaning the ballroom of all of the mysterious snow that had appeared one night. They were never to mention it to another living soul. So, naturally, they talked only to each other during those times. Neither could figure the exact cause but knew that had to be connected to the gates closing immediately afterwards. And they could speculate no more on the threat of treason.

She was often tasked with looking after Anna when she was not with either her mother or her tutors. Anna ran wild without a playmate to tire her out or entertain her, and Gerda often ran on empty.

Gerda helps the Queen prepare Elsa’s new room. If she had the inkling that something was strange, this only corroborates a theory she cannot investigate.

She never saw Elsa after that night, no one in the castle did, save for a few select tutors who never stayed employed longer than a few months. The girl was deathly ill and the fact that her parents allowed anyone in the room other than a doctor was strange enough. She wouldn’t likely recognize her even if she did see her. The years she was out of the public eye were often the ones where children started to change overnight. When the King had announced a trip to see a specialist, it was innocuous and Gerda thought nothing of it other than wondering what had taken him so long. _His daughter was dying._ After the ambush nothing clicks into place and, if anything, she knows even less than she did before.

After Elsa’s death some of the warmth that used to exist in the caste returns, if only for a little bit. The gates are opened and most of the staff rehired. She is the one to take Anna away when her sister’s funeral becomes too much for her. She’s also glad to leave the funeral early, it was much too long and everyone was much too longwinded. The King and Queen’s relationship is strained after their eldest’s death. She hears the tell-tale sounds of an argument coming from their chambers often.

The remaining princess is the darling of everyone’s eye and everything is very normal for a time.

And then it isn’t, the reigning King’s death in an unspecified shipwreck seems like foul play but the Queen and Princess have nothing to gain from his demise and no one on the council disliked Agnarr enough nor did anyone have a successor with a better claim to the throne than _his_ _own_ _daughter_ —with nothing to go on it was ruled an accident, plain and simple. Of course, now Arendelle would have to be ruled by a reagent until the Princess came of age and no one on the council cared for that. But life went on.

Gerda had never considered herself a gossip but one did tend to overhear things in her line of work.

And she had heard when Princess Anna and Queen Iduna talked about the trolls before. How the queen and late king had sought the advice of the trolls and been given questionable advice. How, when Anna had run out a few weeks before her coming-out ball and been delivered home by a strange mountain man, she had spoken to the trolls and gotten nothing out of the conversation.

She had heard what Grand Pabbie, she learns later that’s what the rock preferred to be called, had told their rulers and understood none of it. Judging for the look that Anna had shot her mother she didn’t understand any of it either. What Gerda did understand was how lucky they were that very few of the townspeople heard their conversation. It wouldn’t exactly inspire confidence. It certainly didn’t in her.

They had been camped out on the cliffs for almost a week when the wave came. The crown had ensured that there were enough supplies to last a few weeks. They could wait a week or so longer for their queen and princess to return, but after that, they would need answers. Preferably ones that didn’t come from a talking rock.

And it’s not like she doesn’t trust him, but it was exactly that she didn’t know and didn’t trust him. She liked Kristoff and everything but that didn’t mean that everyone Kristoff happened to know was a saint.

Still she says nothing about the matter to anyone because she believed in her rulers and their ability to work for the good of the kingdom. And she’s spent the better part of 15 years keeping secrets that she didn’t understand

Some parties had started to say that the danger had passed, that their rulers didn’t’ know anything from anything and that it was high time they returned home. Despite their outspoken comments, no one makes a move to return to Arendelle. No matter how outraged, Arendelle wasn’t safe to return to. The quakes and the windstorm and the spontaneous fires had more or less stopped but something in the air just felt off. The fall chill had turned bitter the day before, trying in earnest to freeze them out and off of the cliffs.

The morning of the seventh day, a giant wave rushes down the fjord, and some of her faith is shaken.

-

Hanna was five when the mist fell. She had been playing with her cousins, far away from the festivities and eventual battleground, and then suddenly the sky had turned a perpetual gray color. Neither of their parents had come back, her aunt and uncle did, however.

She and her brother join the family as easily as they can after the mass funeral held after the battle. It’s the first time her parents have told her about death, possibly because it was inevitable—half the village lost someone in the conflict. Their leader had been killed in the skirmish and everything had changed in a matter of hours.

At first, it was like a strange dream. Even on the days where it should be sunny the sky never gets very light. During the winters they could go months without seeing even a hint of light through the thick mist. Her youngest sister is born after the mist fell, and it feels nearly impossible to explain what the sky used to look like.

“It’s blue and clear, and at night everything goes black and you can see the moon and stars,” but there was nothing similar to ascribe the traits to. And her sister just stares back at her with a blank face. Her siblings have a similar time trying to explain it.

In addition to the people lost in the battle, they lose more. Some of the other tribes’ members leave to try and find a way out of the mist and never return. Others are spirited away after dark. Her parents don’t let them outside after dark without supervision.

And it’s like a nightmare that they can’t wake up from. But the longer they’re in it the more it just seems like life. They couldn’t change it, no matter how much they want to. She lost a brother and a few friends on the quest to find a way to end the mist. And they couldn’t do anything more than try and keep their family together.

By the time that the tribe welcomes its first outsider in, she’s an aunt several times over. She doesn’t know how to interact with the girl so she just doesn’t. She didn’t exactly hang around ten-year-olds that she wasn’t related to before Elsa came to the forest and doesn’t plan on it afterwards.

Her nieces and nephews gradually warm to Elsa once her powers make themselves known. And she warms to the girl too. Her nieces and nephews run home with small ice statues that never melt. The few times she talks to the girl in the first few years she’s in the forest, Elsa always seems a little lonely and a little sad. She seems to get better the longer she’s in the woods. And she doesn’t exactly understand what it’s like to come to a new place, a new language, with no family. But she knows what it’s like to be a lonely child without a family. And that connects them enough for her to feel some sympathy for the girl.

She grows up, gets married, and has a child of her own. And the mist is still there but she’s used to it by now. And her family is still together as much as they can be.

She’s with the reindeer when the mist finally falls. She had heard about the new visitors from Arendelle and how they were related to their only other visitor. She notices Elsa and Honeymaren’s absence for a few days. And something feels different in the air and then the mist falls. When the sun finally breaks, 34 years, 5 months, and 23 days after that fateful day. She runs home to embrace her brothers and sisters; the nightmare was finally over. 

-

Liana had lived in Arendelle for most of her life. She and her parents had fled their homeland after war had broken out. The everyday minutia of the royal family just seemed so trite in comparison to that. 

Still, she’s not totally ignorant of the goings-on in the castle. Her parents had been leatherworkers by trade and the castle often made use of their unique skill set. So, she does hear things. The castle used to commission new saddles for the princesses every year, after a point they only ordered one. And that must mean something but she’s not sure what because she’s like ten and still learning a new language.

Living in Arendelle allowed her to attend school regularly and she ends up loving it. She makes friends that don’t mind her accent and they get to play every day. One of the things that the other girls seem to enjoy that she grows to appreciate is gossiping. Liana doesn’t remember all of the intricacies of her school days but gossip has the tendency to stick with you. Liana does remember all of the stories that her classmates had told in-between classes. That the eldest princess of Arendelle was the ugliest child to ever walk the earth. That she was deathly ill and the slightest cold could kill her in a day. That she was cursed until her true love could come and free her from her prison. Some of the rumors that they heard and created were more fantastical than truthful, some were as close to the truth as anyone knew.

Where she was born, they had stories of a boogeyman, in Arendelle they had stories of a mysteriously ill princess. She was much more afraid of the boogeyman than Princess Elsa of Arendelle. Elsa was the best kind of celebrity, one that you never saw and could be anything you wanted her to be.

After the princess is kidnapped and presumed dead the rumors seem tactless. But their curiosity was never sated with the bits and pieces that come from the search parties. A true band of bandits would have sought a ransom by now. None of them had ever seen the princess before and none of them likely ever would.

(They do see all of the impersonators parading themselves through the town, her parents warn her of believing in any of them, but many of her friends are swept up in the thrill of a long-lost princess. And it’s not like any of them have seen Elsa before so really, any of them _could_ be the princess. Yet none of them are)

It was only during the funeral that they get the briefest glimpse at what the girl actually looked like. The royal portrait of the girl had to be at least somewhat representative of what she looked like and she wasn’t anything like they imagined. She was pretty, with white-blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. And it's then that she realizes that Elsa would have been her own age, and if she hadn’t been the heir apparent, they would have been classmates, and maybe friends.

And as time goes on, she meets Anna for real, the castle gates open up again, and the younger princess is much healthier and much more gregarious than her sister. And she was just a kid that needed friends as much as she did when she moved. And she and her friends’ stories of the lost princess gradually dry up as the years go on and more interesting things fills their minds.

 _Did you hear that Princess Anna tried to marry a man she just met?_ Which is arguably one of the more outlandish rumors she hears but it ironically the one that’s actually true. Anna never admits to it outright but how much she denies it digs her own grave.

Years and years later, after the death of the King, and the change in succession Liana takes over her parent’s leatherworking business. She had learned everything from them and was proud to carry on the tradition. And she still hears things about the royal family but none are scandalous enough to warrant the amount of attention she used to give them.

And even though her accent fades she doesn’t forget her homeland. And she and her friends grow up and find other interests and have families of their own. And they have other priorities.

And when Anna is about to be crowned queen, Arendelle nearly falls. Liana had always lived outside of the city proper but had been in town for the coming festivities. And the earth shakes and a harsh wind blows, and all of the lanterns in Arendelle go out. And everyone flees to the cliffs and is more or less stuck there for a week she’s reminded of her homeland for the first time in a long time.

And then the wave comes and she’s sure that there’s nowhere on earth quite like Arendelle.

Had she seen the scene alone Liana would definitely think that she was hallucinating. Even years later she’s sure that there was no way it was real. (And years after that, regaling her grandchildren with the stories of her youth none of them really believe her and she’s fine with that because she doesn’t really believe her at this point) But almost everyone in Arendelle saw the fjord almost flood. And everyone saw the destruction of the castle. So, it had to be real. No matter how incredulous it was.

-

Oaken only knew Anna and he had only met her when she was an adult. He and his family lived a good distance outside of Arendelle and they missed some of the intricacies of town life. He and Magnus got more updates from their children attending school than anything else.

Kristoff and Anna frequented his sauna after they started dating so he got to know the crown princess quite well over the years. She loved to play with his children and tried her best to understand his relationship with his husband. _And that had to count for something. And it couldn’t hurt to influence the person next in line to the throne._

They hear only retroactively that the eldest princess had died. Anna was the only princess they knew it was strange to learn that there used to be someone else in line for the throne. Anna rarely spoke of her sister and they don’t pry, so they no next to nothing of the eldest princess.

He and his family had been staying with relatives for the coming festivities. The fall harvest festival and the coronation of a new ruler in the same week was a perfect excuse to come and stay in town. When everything turned into a disaster, he had been so concerned with protecting his family he barely even noticed the family drama going on around him. 

After a few weeks with no sign of their royalty Oaken and Magnus decide to head home; because they still could. The rest of their family comes with them and they all manage to squeeze into their cabin.

They miss the entire incident. Which, as parents, they're relived, because their children were safe the entire time—but as adults who missed the biggest event in the history of Arendelle, they’re a little upset.

People that visit their sauna in the coming months tell them everything about the event. And none of the stories seem to connect. But all have the same story beats. The wave coming and threatening Arendelle, a bright flash of light that saves it, and the destruction of the castle. And that paints enough of a picture to satisfy their curiosity. And honestly, they probably couldn’t handle seeing the real thing anyway. Even though the most mundane and trite retellings give him anxiety. Seeing it had to be something else entirely.

-

Kare had just had her first child when the mist fell. It was two days after the mist and the battle that she goes into labor. Her daughter never gets to see the sun and neither does any else.

The tribe changes after the battle. They’ve lost people and they lose more as the years go on. They try to focus on their daughter. They live through food shortages and harsh winters and everything in between. And they would endure anything for their child.

Their traditions change, without a sun their crops change, their diets change, their entire way of life has to change. Some things change for the better and some change out of necessity. The grains that used to feed them don’t grow as well in the new environment so they slowly switch to root and heartier leaf vegetables. The reindeer are less active during mating season so they have fewer calves. So, they eat less meat unless it’s a special event or an emergency.

Teresa grows up without the things they lose. So, the complete upheaval is just the forest that she grows up with. The reindeer are smaller and less in number but still friendly and important. Teresa doesn’t know the difference and grows to love her herding duties, eventually seeing the earth symbol and continuing on that path.

Kare had never thought too much about the sky before she loses it. Then she can’t help but miss it. The stars that helped guide her home at night are long gone. The sky is cloudy, even at night and now it's dangerous to be out alone at night.

Both of them lose their parents long before the mist clears. And it shouldn’t feel like as much of a loss as it does. They would never get to see the sky again. The sky was gone, they couldn’t do anything about that. No matter how much people tried to force the forest to bend to their will.

Years pass without them thinking too much about what they’ve lost. They needed to be able to move forward, doing nothing but looking back would stagnate them. Their daughter only had the future, making her look back at something that could no longer be would only make life harder. Teresa doesn’t feel the loss and they’re happy enough at that.

A girl makes it through the mist and the idea that there is a way out reignites for only a moment. There’s a flurry of rumors around her arrival that spread and die quickly. She made it through, but she couldn’t get them out. And that’s the end of that, or at least it is for nearly fifteen years.

Their daughter has just given them their second grandchild when the mist falls. Their grandson is a day old at most when he wakes them on the first morning that the sun rises for real in the forest. And then they get to experience their first sunrise in years together with their grandson.

-

Mikael hated the cold. He had lived in Arendelle his entire life and winters were, by far the worst time of the year for him.

He became a soldier to help support his family and because he had little talent for logging or seafaring. The pay was good and he could support his family without making his wife take on additional jobs. He was always given time to see his family at the end of the day and that a solid enough career plan for him. He had no grand dreams of rising up the ranks or dying to protect the royal family. He dreams of wintering in Corona with his wife when he retires with a full soldier’s pension but it was only that, a dream. Retirement was years away. He was barely in his thirties when he was assigned to keep the princesses separate.

He did not sign up to stand for over eight hours a day in a freezing cold hallway. But that was what he did almost every day for over two years.

Mikael had never paid that much attention to politics; more ambitious soldiers knew everything and everything about how Arendelle arranged its trading and court politics but that had never been his forte nor his interest. So, when his new assignment came through, he was confused, to say the least. Only after conferring with the other, more connected, more integrated, soldiers, he realizes he’s not alone in his confusion. None of them know the purpose of any of this. But they do it anyway because they liked their jobs.

He and his colleagues stood outside an ever-closed door for no discernable reason. There had been an incident of sorts that warranted the separation of two young children. And that was all the information they got really. The only people that they are allowed to let in the door are the King, Queen, and a rotating door of tutors for the heir apparent. 

As a parent himself, Mikael could never imagine not letting his sons see each other. But he wasn’t he King. And that was all the reason he needed.

Neither the King nor the Queen ever leaves the room happy. Whatever happens in the room is not privy to anyone outside of those three. Princess Anna would try and coerce Elsa into opening the door any time that they left it unattended for longer than a few minutes. But Anna never seemed to succeed.

All of them slowly take to wearing their winter uniforms all year long. The hallway was inexplicitly cold all the time. No one can explain it and none of their superiors even bother to try. It becomes a part of the job quickly. The only time he’s able to go from work to home without changing is during the hardest winter months.

One day the King leaves in a hurry and locks the door being him. And it’s only then that Mikael realizes that the door only locked from the outside. And it’s absolutely horrifying to watch the King, the father of the child behind this door, throw the key at them as an afterthought. 

And he has to take a sabbatical for a while after that. Mikael likes the time off; he doesn’t always get to spend the time he wants to with his son and seeing his own King treat his child like that gives him some perspective. He only returns to help search for the missing princess. They spend weeks combing the countryside and turn up nothing. The King, still recovering from his own injuries, doesn’t join them. Mikael tries to not let the feeling in his gut distract him from his search. When it rains during the beginning of the third week, he takes it as a sign from God to give up, and everyone else seems to too. They would never find the Princess unless whoever took her offered a ransom or gave them a clue.

The air in the castle changes after the disappearance and presumed death of Princess Elsa. The doors were opened and much of the furloughed staff is rehired. He’s reassigned to the stables and finds the animals more welcoming than that frigid hallway. (He returns to that hallway only once, just to check, and finds the temperature as manageable as the rest of the castle)

He doesn’t trust his King entirely, but he doubted that everyone in the Kingdom did. Taxes levied against the richer to help the poorer were seen as a slight by some—he had learned something about court politics from his eldest, who had a talent and interest for such things. And when the King starts to go around looking for volunteers for a sea voyage, he thanks his weak stomach and poor sea legs. When the ship eventually goes down, he feels a little bad but not much.

In the space between the doors of the castle closing indefinitely and the crowning of the new Queen, his children grow up and move onto other pursuits.

And he’s still years away from retirement but he still likes his job. The Queen and Princess, save for an incident around her 18th birthday, don’t really create many security threats and Arendelle isn’t large enough of a nation to ever be engaged in conflict for too long.

And when they have to evacuate Arendelle it’s the most he’s ever done during work hours _ever_. He frantically leaves his post to help citizens evacuate and when the earthquake starts and the wind picks up. All of the lights go out in Arendelle so he and everyone else has to do it in the dark as well.

He and the other soldiers pass out the rations and blankets and start to pitch the tents for everyone. And he likes to keep busy in a crisis. And this is a crisis if there ever was one.

They’re there a week before tensions start to rise. Some people don’t think that the danger is real and want to go home. The cliffs are cold, unprotected and unforgiving. But going home isn’t an option until they have answers. He tells the naysayers over and over again until they listen. Or at least until they’re afraid of going back to Arendelle.

On the dawn of the seventh day, just as the sun had started to rise, a giant wave comes that tries to swallow Arendelle. Arendelle is situated comfortably on the fjord and served as a nice waystation to other larger Kingdoms. It was well protected by the surrounding cliffs. The land that was on the fjord was low ground a flood would be catastrophic. A high-speed version of that was rushing towards them at this very moment.

Mikael doesn’t quite believe the events that follow. The waves comes from the north and rages through the valley and just as the wave should swallow Arendelle is stopped by a snowflake-shaped wall of ice. The wall is only there for a second and it seems nothing more than a mirage, but the water stops and flows harmlessly around the city. And his wife will swear that she saw a figure directing the ice, astride a horse made entirely of water. Who disappears just as quickly as the ice wall does. He’s so focused on determining whether the wall was real or not he misses the alleged rider entirely.

The wall, whether it was real or not, save the town of Arendelle but not the castle. The sound of the stone a wood being crushed by thousands of pounds of force And Mikael has no idea what just happened, but he has no doubts that it’s safe to return to Arendelle now.

-

Ivaar had already been an old man when the mist fell. The former chief had been a close friend and brother in arms—he would never believe that he had been the aggressor that started all of this. The spirits had stopped communing with the Northuldra, true, but they would never have attacked their guests without provocation.

He had lost an eye to a stray Arendellian arrow and too many friends to count to the conflict. He was recommended to replace him, but he knew that he was already past his prime. Instead, he takes a spot as one of the elders and welcomes Yelena as chief.

Their tribe, that had used to be so united in their reverence to nature had been split by the separation of themselves from the rest of the world. Several groups had immediately set off to find a way out of the mist and never returned. The woods were no longer forgiving or kind. Being alone in the woods was no longer an option. The spirits would take people out alone at night.

He oversees the planting of crops every year. Though the ground was still fertile, without direct sunlight there were fewer options for them for crops. It took nearly a decade to figure out how to be able to feed the entire tribe throughout the winter. Even then, a bad crop could mean a leaner winter for everyone. But they make do because they had no choice if they wanted to survive.

Ivaar never trusted the Arendellians that were still in the forest. They still trained warriors to protect themselves from them for that very reason. Skirmishes were still common even if the casualties were less common as time went on.

He’s skeptical, to say the least when the scouts return with a half-dead girl who claims to be from Arendelle. The elders consider just sending her out to the woods to die, but Yelena vetoes them quickly. He voted against it but he would have been outnumbered if she hadn’t.

The girl, Elsa, slowly integrates into the tribe and not everyone accepts her. The winter that nearly kills them, Elsa is the one that saves them. And he trusted her before that, but this only proves that his trust had been well placed. When the vote comes a year later on whether to allow Elsa to take her trials he raises his hand in agreement without a second thought, and is ready to fight the other elders when the vote gets too close. 

He had clung on stubbornly to life as the years slowly but surely turned into decades. He had lived a full life and accomplished much, but he wanted to see the sun again.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Wake up!” Ivaar finds himself shaken awake one morning. He’s over 95 summers old and he stopped keeping track a few years ago. The younger members of his family loved to remind him of his advanced age. “Come look at the sky! Come look at the sky!” He finds himself being pulled to his feet, one of his grandchildren helpfully hands him his walking staff, before ushering outside of his goahti.

He spends the day just staring at the sky and when the sun sets on the first day, he is finally able to tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight. He sears the memory into his one good eye and sleeps totally contented for the first time in decades. And when his family can’t wake him the next day, he’s still smiling.

-

Kai remembered the eldest princess probably only well enough to pick her out of a crowd. He saw her more often than the other staff members but that didn’t mean much when she spent the last two or so years of her life more or less confined in a single room. Besides all of this, it had been years.

Kai had been in service to the royal family since Agnarr was crowned King. He’s not sure what exactly started his career as a butler but he had never thought of leaving the profession.

He had been on hand the day that the eldest Princes shad been born. He and Agnarr had been ushered out of the room when things seemed to go south. They had rushed down to the kitchen to fetch water. The King had likely only been down to the kitchens himself a few times and grabs the first pot of water that he sees. It’s scalding hot and they spill most of it before they get back to the room but it distracts Agnarr from the possible death of his child. Luckily, he was wrong. Princess Elsa is healthy if strangely cold.

He didn’t have nearly the amount of contact with the Princesses that some of the female staff did, but he still saw the girl. He had helped her into her coat once or twice and felt the chill that she radiated. And her near-white hair was hard to miss.

And he knows the two things are connected when he and Gerda are tasked with cleaning up veritable mountains of snow and ice the night that the royal family disappears into the mountains for a night. He and Gerda are sworn to secrecy on the threat of treason after the ballroom is cleaned. So, he speculates only to her.

After Elsa is confined to a single solitary hallway far away from the rest of the family Kai takes on more duties as the staff is greatly reduced. His pay increase but hit free time is almost nonexistent. The castle is empty, both physically and emotionally. He had only seen it like that before when King Runeard had died when he was first hired. When Elsa and Agnarr go on their fateful journey where only one returned, the castle changes again. Some of the life comes back, but not all. It teems with life but something

Surprisingly, the same does not occur after the death of the King. The Kingdom mourns, as does Kai, having had known the man since he was nary more than a boy. But the castle doesn’t lose the life it had when he doesn’t return. Life goes on.

Kai had been with the Queen and Princess assisting in the coronation practice. Anna a much different child that her elder sister had been. More outgoing and free. Free to be whatever she wanted. He had run with them and overheard their conversation with the Trolls. He and Gerda, able to speak freely without the royal family around,

The wave rushes down the gorge and the next thing that all of them think they’ll see and hear is the destruction of their homes and livelihoods. What they see instead is the

Kai shuts his eyes the moment that the wave should reach Arendelle and misses some of it. When he hears the gasps of surprise instead sobs of outrage and indignity, he forces them open. He sees the last of a bright white light fading in front of Arendelle. The tension that had been building around Arendelle, around the cliffs that surrounded it, around his chest, had dissipated along with the wave. Arendelle wasn’t in danger any longer.

Arendelle is miraculously spared from the flood. There’s a flash of light that blocks the wave from crushing the town. Later he learns, that a lot of people argue that they saw a snowflake for a moment of the bright light. A very vocal minority will insist that it was nothing more than a trick of the light. Kai can’t argue too much either way. And some of the townspeople will swear that they saw a horse made completely out of water riding the waves. And in the months immediately after drunkards will argue over pints whether the horse was real or not. Whether the woman riding it was either.

And no one knows for sure for a long time what was real and what wasn’t. But Arendelle survived to see another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, thanks for reading!


	14. No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. I'm hoping the wait for the next one will be a little shorter, I'm aiming to finish and publish the next chapter on this story's five month anniversary. So wish me luck.

Elsa feels nothing for a long time. There was the pain of freezing to death and then nothing. Elsa had been raised religious, in the years before her isolation she had been baptized and spent every Sunday in the large cathedral on the castle grounds. Neither of her parents were quite devout but many people in the Kingdom were, so they went. Despite her participation, she spent much of her time during service examining the architecture. The way the stained glass caught the light in the mornings, the vaulted ceilings, everything about the building was utterly fascinating to her. During isolation, she doesn’t receive communion or any other instruction to read the bible. Nor would she do it on her own accord, she had more pressing issues to attend to. After coming to the forest, she saw no reason to continue spending every Sunday worshipping when there was no longer a church nor a priest. There were also no more Sundays. The Northuldra believed in nature and used it to guide their actions both as individuals and as a community. Elsa likes this well enough, though she doesn’t ascribe to it solely. The Northuldra believed that after death one’s energy would be taken back into nature and sometimes come back as something new. When she does die, she doesn’t see the religious other side, come back as something from nature, or anything else for that matter, it is just utter darkness. Nothingness.

Coming back to life is different. She didn’t have time to think about dying, let alone living.

She thaws in a moment and doesn’t have the time to think about any of that as she comes crashing down through the floor of Ahtohallen. The water underneath Ahtohallen is illuminated enough to see the outline of the Nokk rushing towards her. There’s no air left in her lungs when the Nokk pulls her back to the surface. _Anna had broken the dam!_ Her brain thaws enough to register. _She needed to get to Arendelle!_ She feels the ice in her bones crack as she situates herself upon the water steed. The water steed seems to have the same sixth sense about what had happened. She doesn’t need reins this time, the Nokk isn’t trying to fight her. They turn towards Arendelle and ride like the wind.

Every inch of her body is in pain. Freezing to death hadn’t changed any of that. The Nokk chooses to be a smooth ride this time and partially protects her from further injury. She and the Nokk race the waves to Arendelle. With the dam gone, there was nothing holding back the water behind it, and nothing stopping it from crushing Arendelle. They cross miles in minutes and a trip that should take days or weeks takes mere moments. She doesn’t register the last vestiges of the mist that they crash though, everything around them was not much more than a blur.

They land right on the edge of the fjord, staring down the raging waters that had been held back for decades. It fills the surrounding cliffs, the towering walls of stone

Elsa had grown up with the same education that every other Arendellian had, her royal status just ensured that she retained it in excruciating detail. The dam had been built as a symbol of peace between the Northuldra and Arendelle. It still stood to this day in part due to the brilliant feat of engineering and the will of the remaining Arendelle guard. She knows this because she memorized all of her lessons, a long time ago back when she wanted to be a good queen.

The dam slowly drained the forest’s resources and would have starved them if not for some ingenuity. She knows this because she’s lived in the forest for longer than she lived in Arendelle. And because she knows her people.

Elsa closes her eyes and throws her hands up and hopes that she knows her people well enough to save them again.

She and the Nokk connect for a moment and she feels the same way she did when she and Gale stopped the blizzard. They pull up a wall of ice to protect Arendelle, and the Nokk channels the excess water safely around the barrier. There’s the sound of thousands of pounds of wood and stone being crushed under the weight and pressure of should-be unstoppable tidal wave. She opens her eyes to watch the destruction of the castle. The part of her that’s still conscious finds some satisfaction in the single moment that it takes for the castle to be swept away. That place that had helped create her own living hell for years, could be gone in seconds.

(The part of her that still hadn’t fully shaken the frost from her bones knows that this is devastating, even if she isn’t)

The ice in her veins sings as it thaws, and the song sounds a lot like joy. She shuts her eyes again and loses herself in the feeling

Elsa’s not sure what happens after she stops the wave. Every molecule in her body was drained. She had been injured and dying before and now she was alive again and exhausted. She doesn’t feel the Nokk melt back into the fjord and take her with. She’s not sure how she doesn’t drown, but the next time she wakes, which is much, much later she’s on the shores of the dark sea. Her eyes work but don’t register the blue sky above her, how clear the first day without the mist is, she doesn’t see further than her eyelashes. The sea has quieted down but her exhaustion hasn’t left her and falling asleep is infinitely easier than waking up. She shuts her eyes and lets the lights that dance behind her eyes take over. And she wants to sleep forever.

-

Iduna doesn’t know what to do when the mist falls. She and Honeymaren had raced towards the Earth Giants to rouse them to action. Running in screaming with her daughter’s fiancée in utter desperation, they never spoke a single word to one another. They had succeeded and the dam had fallen. The adrenaline that had coursed through her veins was gone in a moment, and the emptiness nearly knocks her off her feet.

She and Honeymaren walk slowly back to where the dam used to stand. The other woman seeming as dead on her feet as she was.

“Where’s Elsa?” She asks though she already knows the answer. Honeymaren doesn’t answer, her words gone, she holds up her bare wrist instead and Iduna knows everything and nothing at the same time.

Back when they were running the distance had seemed minuscule, walking back at a snail’s pace sobers her completely. She can’t bring herself to say anything else. She can’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t feel like she was ripping her own heart out. They trudge back to where the dam used to be with only the sounds of their feet crushing damp leaves.

They reunite with Anna and Kristoff at the edge of the dam. Kristoff seeming to hold Anna up. Anna rushes her and pulls her into a hug. And it's horrible but she loves the feeling of her child in her arms, no matter the circumstances. And she lets herself cry then, her onslaught starts Anna’s and they’re both a mess in a matter of seconds.

They walk back to the village slowly. The soldiers commiserating over the fact that they may finally be able to see Arendelle again. The four, plus Mattias, don’t share the mirth.

She _should_ head back to Arendelle, all of them should. With the destruction of the dam over half of Arendelle was likely gone. Their people needed leadership and help to start rebuilding. The supplies on the cliffs wouldn’t last forever. But she can’t pull herself away from her village.

The village is torn between celebration and mourning, so they do both. Most of the village knew Elsa in one way or another, a foreigner with ice powers was hard to miss. They burn incense and start to perform funeral rites and slaughter a few reindeer to celebrate the fall of the mist. The soldiers and the Northuldra intermingling peacefully for the first time in decades.

Anna and Kristoff hadn’t even tried to stay awake for the festivities that began at noon, instead retiring to a spare goahti to sleep some off some of their exhaustion. Iduna was still wired and was awake until late that night. She parks herself at one of the campfires and is soon joined by Lieutenant Mattias.

“How well did you know Elsa?” She asks, not turning to fully acknowledge the man. He had known Agnarr and Elsa, as had she, she wondered where his loyalties lay. She was still dealing with the revelations herself.

“Not very,” he admits, “We saw each other often but we were never very close when she told me about her father we didn’t speak for months,” this is hard for him to admit and she likes him more for it.

“How well did you know Agnarr?” She wonders this more and more herself. She had known her own husband well, just not every part of him.

“He was like a son to me, and it was hard to hear,” he adds, anticipating her next question, “But I believed Elsa, and in some ways, I felt responsible for her,” he sighs a deep sigh, one born of a deep-seated exhaustion, “I was never sure that Agnarr survived the initial battle until Elsa showed up, I had hoped but had no way of knowing. ”

“How did you know she was Agnarr’s child?”

“They act a lot alike, same mannerisms and everything,” he laughs at how both of the children he had known pouted the exact same way. “I can’t quite explain it, it was the same way that you knew she was your child even though you hadn’t seen her in years, it took a few times for me to realize why she seemed so familiar, but once I knew I knew,” he smiles wistfully, and Iduna understands the feeling exactly, they let a long but not uncomfortable silence pass between them, “Thank you for freeing the forest, and for saving Agnarr all those years back,” a look of confusion flits across her face and he adds, “Yelena told me earlier.”

“No, I should be thanking you, for watching over her all these years,” she owed too many people for raising her child for her.

“Thank Yelena, I wasn’t the most consistent force in her upbringing,” in the way he ways it she knows that he would have had a larger role had things been different. Knowing everything that she does now so does she. She wishes that countless things had gone differently, but she couldn’t change anything then and she couldn’t change anything now.

“Neither was I, so take my thanks,” Iduna doesn’t know her daughter or husband at all, and now she ruled a kingdom that was supposed to be theirs. “We need to go back to Arendelle, the dam had to wreak havoc on the kingdom,” they had about six days before the supplies on the cliffs would run out, they would need to leave well before that.

“Will there be casualties?”

“It’s unlikely, all of Arendelle was evacuated to the cliffs before we left, as long as they stayed there everyone should be fine, but we need to start rebuilding,” she wrings her hands together, not nervous but needing something to do with them, “Why did you stay loyal to the crown all these years? Certainly, it would have made more sense to join the tribe for a better chance of survival?”

“My father was able to carve out a life for us because of the crown, I owed them my life then as I do now, I am still at your service, even after all of these years.”

“I may have something that you can help me with.”

Mattias and the other soldiers agree easily to head back to Arendelle with an official word from the Queen about their plans to rebuild. And only after all of that is sorted out is, she finally able to sleep.

-

The next time that Elsa wakes for longer than a moment is much later. She can’t seem to keep her eyes open long enough to gather her thoughts. Instead, she rests peacefully in the comfort that the inky blackness offers in the interims.

When she is awake longer than a few stolen moments she tries to call the Nokk to help her. But the fickle creature doesn’t seem to hear her call. Maybe it does, but she falls unconscious as quickly as she had woken without even meaning to.

The time after that she knows that she can stay awake longer than a moment solely because she could feel every broken and bruised bone in her body and how weak her body felt down to the bone—the pain keeps her awake long enough to call to the other spirits and have them answer. She had been lying on her back for spirits knows how long, she places her hands as firmly as she can on the ground to try and wedge herself into a sitting position. She only half-manages and leans heavily on the arm that _wasn’t_ dislocated. She had forgotten about that, but the pain coming back full force was a good reminder. 

Calling out to the other spirits isn’t much different from trying to answer her own call. (It still struck her that she had been calling out to herself the entire time) Her voice, still there after all of the abuse she had gone through, is strong enough to carry. A long moment passes where she starts to pray that she had enough energy left to make the call again. Then the still water that stretched out as far as she could see morphs into the vision of the Nokk climbing out of the water.

“Can you take me back?” She rasps, what was left of her voice apparently gone. She realizes belatedly that she needed to get back to her family. There was no telling how long she was unconscious on top of being dead and she needed to see them.

And the Nokk doesn’t answer immediately. He stands on the edge of his world and contemplates her request before bowing his head and challenging her to mount him.

She can’t use the water horse as leverage, that much is made clear within the first few minutes. Her powers aren’t steady enough to create anything to help her either. She uses her good arm to push herself up to a fully-sitting position. Her legs are nothing more than useless hunks of flesh that she has to force to work again. She stands up like a newborn calf, possibly even more unsteady, and tries to pull herself up by the water horses’ neck. Nokk seems to take pity on her and lowers its head to let her mount easier. She can’t say that she’s ever been a fan of pity, but this was the first time that it was convenient for her.

Elsa can’t even manage to sit upright so she slouches over the Nokk’s neck and just tries not to fall off. The ride is much slower than expected, given her previous experience. She wants to urge the creature to go faster but if he did, she probably wouldn’t be able to hold on. With their powers combined the Nokk is mobile on land and the scenery moves past without her registering any of it. Even at much slower speeds, the trip is short.

The Nokk doesn’t drop her off near the village or even the dam. He chooses to be ironic and leaves her by the stone monuments, where the edge of her world used to be. Even in the darkness, she can make out the four symbols that hadn’t been visible to either side of the mist in years. The first and only time she had come through the mist it was too dark for her to see the monuments. Seeing it for the first time she can barely keep her eyes open. It should be a magical or at least awe-inspiring experience. She doesn’t feel anything but tired.

She slides off of the steed less than gracefully, landing in a heap that she doesn’t even try to correct.

“You couldn’t drop me off any closer?” She slurs, watching the Nokk trot off the way they came. She had no energy left to even try and make it back home. She curls into a ball and decides to try again in the morning.

-

Honeymaren comes back to the village and crashes. She had kept her eyes trained to the sky, unable to look away from the stunning blue color. For years Elsa had tried to explain what the sky was like. But it was impossible to imagine. And no matter how well Elsa had known the sky for ten years, and no matter how well she _had_ described it, it didn’t compare to the real thing. She could say the same thing about Elsa.

Elsa had drawn out the constellations for her once. Even through the mist, the night sky had been dark, it was hard to imagine the sky with stars of any kind. Night or day.

When Honeymaren wakes again the sun is long gone and the stars have made their first appearance. She can’t sleep any more even if she wanted to. So, she stays awake and traces the lines in the sky like she used to trace the few freckles that Elsa had along her back.

_“You have a big dipper on your shoulder,” it was a few months after their fateful dance together. They’re lying around their home and she had convinced Elsa to let her give her a massage. She had stopped her ministrations to poke at the spots on her beloved. It caused quite a stir in the village that they were courting and living together. The stir lasted about a week and then the village found something else to talk about._

_“No, I don’t,” Elsa swats her hands away, okay with the massage but not the prodding, she was still unused to the intimacy that they were allowed to have. Maren loves the way that her skin would flush at any touch they shared._

_“Yes, you do,” she gives each of Elsa’s freckles a peck, “You also a bunch on your face,” she flips Elsa over easily and presses flurry of kisses to the other girl’s cheeks._

_“Hey,” Elsa giggles, absolutely breathless, “Stop that! No fair!”_

_“Go ahead and try to stop me!” Honeymaren continues her assault, moving southward to the tender area around the neck._

_“Two can play at that game,” Elsa’s voice drops an octave and Maren feels chills and all too hot at the same time. Elsa uses her powers to freeze her wandering hands to her sides, before flipping their positions and attacking her in earnest._

She loses herself in the memories and misses the night slowly morphing into a new morning. She can still name the constellations that Elsa taught her. And maybe the stars can comfort her now. She feels the presence of someone walking up to her and feels her entire body cramp up as she finally changes positions. Honey-colored eyes stare up at a blue that is familiar but all too unfamiliar.

(Elsa’s eyes aren’t entirely from her mother, Maren realizes. Anna and Iduna’s match exactly, but Elsa’s were lighter, otherworldly.)

“We’ve never spoken,” Iduna starts then stops, “I’m sorry that this is how we have to meet.”

“I honestly never thought that the time would come that we would meet,” some part of her had always assumed that the mist would never fall. She had hoped but by the time that she was born the mist had been there for over a decade. It wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she. Maren tries to shake the soreness from her neck and back.

“Can we talk?” The queen asks, motioning to sit next to her.

“Why not?” She had no desire to speak with the other woman nor an abhorrence. She wanted to be left alone, and she didn’t want to be alone. She pats the ground next to her and Iduna joins her.

“I know that you and my daughter were promised,” the Queen’s Northuldra is clumsy from years of disuse. Elsa had told her about the revelation of her heritage, it had been surprising but it hadn’t changed anything. Elsa would always have a place in the forest. Heritage or lack thereof wouldn’t change that. “What were…how did you and my daughter…was Elsa…I’m sorry, I don’t know what I want to ask,” she doesn’t know what she wants to say nor does she know how to say what she wants to say. Iduna doesn’t flush, but she looks abashed enough that Maren feels bad to end her suffering.

“You can speak in Arendellian if that’s easier, Elsa taught me,” Iduna nods graciously and Maren continues, “Elsa and I were together for about five years, but we’ve known each other for closer to 15.”

“And you never married?”

“No,” she shakes her head to add emphasis and clear the traitorous thoughts that plague her mind of a wedding with everyone they’ve lost there, “We were already living together and it seemed kind of strange to put pressure on ourselves to get married when we already did everything that married couples did,” she blushes for a second at the implication that she had just told her fiancées mother.

Iduna has the decorum to not comment on it. 

“Your daughter and I were in love, and I still love her,” that wouldn’t change.

“I never even thought about Elsa ever getting married,” she feels the need to explain herself, “After the accident, all I wanted was for Elsa to be in control of her powers, and after her father…” she trails off and they both fill in the blank themselves. If Honeymaren was feeling less like shit she would have called her on it, would have made her say it out loud. But both of them were going through this, so she lets it slide. She didn’t want the reminder any more than Iduna did. “All I wanted was for my family to find some peace.”

“Did you?” Maren had learned the most basic structure of how Arendelle royalty worked from Elsa but she, against her better judgment, doubted that someone who left he monarchy as a child would know everything about it.

“For a while, my husband was never the same after it, even if he liked to pretend that he was,” Iduna pauses, deep in thought, “I never thought that I would see my homeland or my daughter again,” she shakes her head and Maren is so reminded of the strange girl that she had met all those years ago. “I thought we would have more time, both times.”

“So, did I.”

The conversation lulls after this. Maren thinks it over for a long time as they watch the sun rise together. It’s the first one that she gets to watch and she feels herself crying without realizing it. Iduna wordlessly hands her a handkerchief.

“How did you two realize that you had feelings for each other?” Iduna broaches the subject after the sun has started to climb into the sky.

“When I came of age I dated a handful of other people, just to see what it was like,” she had been afraid of something, of disappointing parents that had been dead for years, of ruining her relationship with her favorite person, “before we got together, and it took her a long time for her to realize that she was jealous, not of me, but of everyone that I was seeing.”

“How long did that take?”

“Two years.”

Iduna laughs for real then, it’s the first sound out of her mouth in what feels like ages that isn’t in mourning or planning. “She was never the more emotionally intelligent child,” Maren knows by her tone that she blames herself for much of this. So, does Maren for that matter, but dwelling on that wouldn’t do anything and wouldn’t get them anywhere.

“No, she wasn’t,” Maren finds the older woman’s laughter contagious and chuckles along with her. Elsa struggled to understand some of the most basic human interactions for a long time. She had almost no experience and had to learn everything at a much later age than everyone around her. Neither can fault her on this because she learned eventually. And they would learn to live with this too.

-

Anna sleeps for a long time. Kristoff wakes her in intervals to make sure she’s hydrated and fed but mostly lets her sleep. Thankfully she doesn’t dream. Sleeping off depression doesn’t work even a little bit, but she mercifully feels rested at least.

Anna had never been a planner. She acted in the moment and she learned to live with the consequences afterward, eventually. She barely planned the next meal she would have; she had the tendency to snack on anything and everything in between meals anyway. When she had something important it was planned for her. Someone would give her a schedule and she would follow it if it was important.

She and Kristoff had discussed marriage and that was the extent of their planning thus far. They both wanted the same things and loved each other—that was enough of a start for a relationship. She had wanted to be married since she was a child but, contrary to popular belief, she had never planned her wedding. Anna had made her dolls get married in any number of ways, but the most planning usually involved was tearing up white fabric she found in the craft room. Which she doesn’t count and neither does Gerda, who was often tasked with cleaning up said ‘plans’.

Deep down she knows that planning had never meant anything because things changed. Her sister, her best friend and confidant, had been locked behind a door for something that wasn’t anything more than an accident. She had planned on always having her sister, her family by her side. That changes too and soon it’s just her and her mom. She can’t even plan on that relationship because her mother had been lying to her for her entire life. That mends but it’s never the same. She has a fiancé for about 12 hours, until it turns out that he’s evil, which is _fine_. He sucked anyway. Her relationship with Kristoff changes and she relishes in that. He was her first true friend since her sister and it changed for the better but it could have been so much worse.

Then a storm rocks Arendelle and everything changes once again. Her kingdom sits on the edge of ruin and they have to journey north to find anything to save them. Then her sister is alive and engaged and her powers are more real than she ever thought possible. And she has absolutely no time to adjust because, yet again, the kingdom is on the verge of destruction. Somewhere in there, a snowman comes to life and somehow that’s not the strangest thing to happen. And then her sister is dead and _she_ puts her kingdom in mortal peril because it was the only way to save its future.

And now for the first time, she has the capacity to plan. There were no more surprises that life could throw at her that she couldn’t face.

When she’s finally able to be awake long for longer than a meal she watches the funeral rites with rapt attention. She doesn’t understand anything that’s going on and she thinks of how she needs to start learning Northuldra.

She needed to do a lot of things.

(While she sleeps her memories start to make more sense. Her childhood makes more sense. Her family makes less but that’s not surprising. Hearing her mother say it out loud was one thing but remembering and feeling all of her memories was different. It always seemed strange that she and her sister only seemed to interact with each other during the winter. Elsa had ice powers—they could play with snow anytime they wanted. Her sister had loved her from her first moment, the whole time she had been cold was just because of their father. Her father had never been cruel or even mean to her, but he had to Elsa. The guards hadn’t been posted for no reason; they had been protecting everyone else from Elsa. Elsa had seemed to think the same thing)

She feels the need to get back to Arendelle deep in her gut. Arendelle needed their leadership now more than ever. Her mother sending Mattias and the other soldiers to Arendelle was only a temporary solution. Arendelle was likely devastated, the dam held back years and years problems that couldn’t be solved without real work.

She plans how Arendelle could rebuild. How long it would take, and how many materials they could get in Arendelle and what they would need to ask their allies for. How much labor they could generate just within Arendelle and how long that would take.

She thinks of all the laws that would need to be made and passed to protect the forest from people like her grandfather. The council would need convincing but she had faced down earth giants, she could take them any day. She could face Hans again and break his nose again without batting an eye.

She speaks with Yelena and plans for the official recognition of the Northuldra people within Arendelle and amongst their allies. They plan for everything because she wanted to be prepared for everything. She had spent too much of her life playing catch up, she was no longer content to live only in the moment, she wanted to have a future as well.

When she lies down for her final night’s sleep in the enchanted forest, she finally allows herself to think of Elsa. She wanted her sister to see her as the queen she was always meant to be. She wanted more time to fix their relationship and their family. And she promises to let Honeymaren into the family in any way that she was comfortable with. Because it was the right thing to do, and her sister had loved the other woman, and that was all that mattered.

She wants to go home; it would be too easy to lay down and die—but she already tried that and it didn’t work. She needed to keep moving. She did the next right thing in the moment and she needed to keep doing that. For her sake and everyone else’s’.

-

The royal family waits until the last moment they can to leave for Arendelle. Iduna drags her feet and none of them can blame her for that. Funerals in Northuldra culture lasted several days and they would miss some of the final rites. And they would have to live with that.

There’s a chill in the air the morning they finally leave. Honeymaren offers to accompany them to the edge of the forest. She thinks for a long moment about just joining them in Arendelle. Her father had told her the stories of the outside world and for the longest time, she had wanted to see all of it. She’s sobered as the years go on and finds new dreams. Now she considers those dreams once again. The forest was her home and always would be, but it seemed impossible to stay in a place that Elsa wasn’t in anymore. She’s still deciding when they reach what used to be the edge of their world.

Her father had told her about the monuments that their ancestors had erected to honor the spirits. But she’s never seen them. No one her age has. She had made Elsa recreate them out of ice a few times to help her imagine them and later to help some of the children in the tribe visualize them. But like the stars and the sun and the color of the sky, the real thing is so much different. Underwhelming almost, compared to everything else on that list.

They come to the clearing and for a long moment, Honeymaren thinks about whether she should stay or go. She isn’t set on one or the other.

When her eyes lay on the prone body her heart almost stops in her chest. She drops everything that she had been carrying and rushes forward.

Elsa looks angelic. (They don’t have that word in their language because they didn’t have angels, but Elsa had explained the concept once or twice) She’s curled into a ball and as she approaches, she can’t tell whether or not she’s breathing.

Honeymaren doesn’t register the rest of the party sprinting to catch up with her. Nor does she feel the pain in her knees as they meet the ground harder than necessary. She presses a few fingers to Elsa’s pulse point and holds her breath. A slow but steady beat meets her and she instantly starts crying.

-

Iduna sees Honeymaren start crying and immediately assumes the worst. She hadn’t been paying attention when they came to the clearing. She had seen the monuments years ago, and doubted that sitting alone in the mist for almost forty years could have changed that. So, when Honeymaren drops her staff and shoves past them as they come to the clearing, she’s a little confused.

Then she sees the body in the center of the monuments and time stops.

As much as Anna teases her, she’s still young. She had run to lead the Giants to the dam and she runs again now.

She falls to her knees alongside Anna and Honeymaren and finally notices the faintest puffs of frost coming from Elsa’s mouth.

She hears Anna sob in the background as her field of vision narrows to just her eldest daughter.

She doesn’t know what to do and so she stays frozen in place.

“We need to take her back to the village,” Honeymaren says as she gathers Elsa in her arms, “Kristoff, can I borrow Sven?” She’s not asking, she picks Elsa up bridal style easily and Sven is already lowering his head to help her on.

Kristoff nods in affirmation quickly and Honeymaren if off, back towards the village. And then the three of them are left alone in the clearing. Iduna is ready to rush off back to the village to help Elsa with her inevitable recovery. Without Sven, getting back to Arendelle would take much longer and she didn’t know how long they could wait. They needed to leave. She needed to stay.

Sensing her inner conflict Anna quickly speaks up, “Kristoff and I will go back to Arendelle to sort things out and start rebuilding, you should stay with Elsa.”

“Anna, are you sure?”

“I’m positive, we’ll be back as soon as we can, just take care of her,” some Northudra villagers soon return with Sven and some other reindeer to help them get back to Arendelle quicker.

Iduna returns to the village and is quickly led to where Elsa was. She recognizes the symbols of the healer’s home and the smell takes her back to her childhood.

The healer in question informs her that Elsa has several broken ribs and a dislocated left arm. She’s burning up and not coherent, but she’s alive. And that’s all that matters.

She sits at the edge of the goahti with Honeymaren, neither of them healers by trade, they didn’t want to cause hinder any progress they had made. And the healers had forced them to stop trying to help when they had no idea what was going on. Relegated to the sidelines they can only watch as Elsa’s dislocated arm is popped back in place. It looks and sounds incredibly painful but the herbs forced down Elsa’s throat seem to stop her from waking. “Has she ever had a fever before?” She knows this about her child, but in a very real way she doesn’t.

“Yes, but it’s never been this high before,” Elsa had had fevers as a child as had Anna. But her body temperature had only risen to that of an average human. Iduna had been allowed to feel her daughter’s forehead for only a moment before being ushered away from the sickbed. Elsa had been burning up.

“Do they think she’ll be okay?” Elsa had survived this much, how much more could she take?

“If they can get the fever to break, her broken ribs will be the least of our worries,” Iduna can feel the anxiety rolling off of the other woman and gives her arm a reassuring squeeze, although she doesn’t know if everything will be okay. Honeymaren seems to relax though, leaning back finally against the walls of the goahti. Iduna finds herself relaxing as well, never enough to sleep, but enough to relax the muscles in her back.

It takes the healers the rest of the day to successfully break Elsa’s fever. Normally Elsa was the one to help soothe fevers with ice packs that she could form with a wave of her hand. Now they had to make do with cool clothes.

With that news, Iduna finds a pile of spare furs and collapses into a peaceful sleep.

-

Iduna and Honeymaren take long shifts tending to Elsa over the next few weeks. Mostly Elsa just sleeps. After her fever clears up, she still doesn’t wake for longer than a few minutes. Just long enough for them to press a wet cloth into her mouth and occasionally get her to drink some bone broth.

Elsa’s been back from the dead for a week when she’s able to keep her eyes open for longer than a few minutes. Iduna happens to be the one watching her when this finally happens.

“How long have I been asleep?” Elsa rasps out as Iduna quickly moves to bring her the waterskin.

“A little over a week since we brought you back to the village, almost two since the dam fell.”

“What happened?”

“I went too far,” she doesn’t let her mother elaborate on her stricken face before she continues, “I had to know the truth, I had to find a way to free the forest and save Arendelle,” and she says it with such conviction that Iduna almost doesn’t see how it translated. Her daughter had chosen the lives of others over her own. 

“Like the lullaby?” She manages to connect. The lullaby had been one of the few things she had taken with her. It had been a touchstone for years during her own childhood and translating to her new language had been a chance for her to share what she could with her own children. The scarf had been a reminder of where she came from and the lullaby was supposed to be for her future. Though, she muses, it didn’t always work out like that.

“Exactly, except I didn’t drown, I froze,” Elsa is as cavalier as she can be, given her current condition. “I heard your version of the lullaby in my head when I was on the edge, but I decided to keep going anyway,” Elsa says it as if she had merely jumped off of a dangerous diving spot rather than a pit of no return. 

“You remembered,” she’s touched even though she has little right to be.

“How could I forget? It took me a long time to realize the song that a lot of mothers sang to their children in the village was the same one my own mother had sang to me,” Elsa’s half-lidded eyes don’t disclose much but Iduna knows that there’s some contempt. Elsa isn’t awake enough to even try and veil it and Iduna doesn’t fault her on this.

“Did you ever think…?”

“No,” Elsa makes a motion that would have been a shake of the head if not for her exhaustion, “I had no idea, none at all,” Elsa fights a yawn for a long moment before giving in, she looks like she’s ready to fall asleep then and there but she pushes through it, “Why didn’t you tell me? Or any of us?”

“I was afraid of how you and Anna would react, of how your father would react, and I let that rule my life for too long, I let it rule your life for too long, and I’m sorry,” Elsa blinks rapidly, willing herself to stay awake long enough to continue this conversation, processing the information slowly. “I had nothing to do with what your father did, and I know that it doesn’t really mean anything at this point but I had no idea what he was planning to do, and I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything to help you all those years.”

And Elsa knows this but it feels good to have her suspicions confirmed. “I know," and she smiles, and lets her heavy lids rest close for a moment. And Iduna is fine to leave the conversation at that for the moment. But then Elsa opens her eyes again and meets hers. “Will you sing me to sleep? I haven’t heard your voice in years, I want to hear it again.”

Iduna’s heart soars. It had been years since she had sung the song, but the words are burned into her mind. “ _Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a river full of memory, sleep, my darling safe and sound, for in this river all is found…”_

She finishes the song even after Elsa falls asleep during the first few bars. Elsa was too big to hold in her arms now, and she wasn’t strong enough anymore, but she could still do this for her.

-

Finding Elsa alive had been a whirlwind of chaos. As soon as she had felt the familiar thrum beneath her fingers, she had picked Elsa up and brought her back to the village as quickly as she could. Elsa had felt so light like she was made out of just ice rather than flesh and blood and everything that mattered in their long-shared life. She rushes her off to the medicine tent and tries to just sit back and let the healers do their jobs. She fails a few times and they have to threaten to kick her out of the tent to stop her from trying to interfere.

After Elsa’s fever finally breaks she lets Iduna stay with Elsa returning to their goahti to sleep.

Honeymaren is too elated with Elsa being alive to confront her for the first week. As the second week goes on and Elsa regains her strength, she doesn’t feel guilty about wanting to kill her promised.

“I swore that if you came back from this, I would kill you myself,” she says one day once Elsa is finally feeling well enough to be awake for most of the day. Nothing, in particular, brings it up but it needed to be said.

“You can’t kill your fifth spirit after so many years without one, the village would be furious,” Elsa goads even though she can barely sit up at the moment.

“Why did you let me drag your sorry ass all the way to the dark sea if you were just going to ditch me there?”

“I couldn’t get there alone, you knew this,” Elsa doesn’t even try to pretend to be ashamed. 

“Because you almost died pulling memories out of a shipwreck,” Honeymaren deadpans. “Also, when did that become part of your powers?” She and Elsa had spent the majority of their childhoods experimenting with Elsa’s powers and this had never come up.

Elsa shrugs, “I have no idea, it was a surprise to me too.”

“Could you do it again?” She didn’t want Elsa to do anything that would hurt her but Honeymaren could admit to being curious about this new power.

“When I’m feeling better, maybe, when I was in Ahtohallen I felt something in my powers change, whatever was holding me back at the ship isn’t there anymore.”

“What was it like? Ahtohallen?”

“Beautiful, it was a glacier of ice and in the center, I found a room full of memories,” Elsa’s eyes shimmer at the thought, “I saw my past, and my parents and ours, but it wasn’t the answer I needed.”

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you? You had to go too far,” Honeymaren doesn’t try and sound playful, because the topic is deadly serious, but it comes out that way nevertheless.

“I had to,” Elsa doubles down, “This was my one chance to save our people and to save Arendelle,” Honeymaren stiffens and Elsa softens, grabbing her hand with renewed strength, “I love you, more than anything, that’s why I couldn’t let you come with me, I had my powers to protect me and I still ended up like this,” Elsa’s ribs had started to heal thankfully, but she still had another few weeks until she could move around normally. “For what it’s worth I’m sorry, I don’t promise to not do that again if similar circumstances arise but I’ll try and involve you more in the decision-making process.”

“This isn’t an ‘if’ question Elsa, I am your wife, you’re going to involve me no matter what.”

“I don’t remember a ceremony,” Elsa snarks, although there’s no fight in it. She wanted to play not kill.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Maren tickles the marked skin on the back of her wife’s neck, her mark still intact.

“I know I am,” Elsa grins and pushes her body up to give her a quick peck on the lips. And Honeymaren shouldn’t be so affected but she is. She lets a few traitorous tears loose before pulling herself together.

“If that made you cry, just give me your arm,” Elsa takes the offered limb gently in her hands, Elsa’s magic, dormant for much of her convalesce swirls around her forearm. Their mark replaced in moments. Elsa had added the fifth spirt sign inside of the symbol for ice. Maren traces the outline for a long moment. She takes Elsa’s hands in her own and rests them on the space between their lap and then she leans in and kisses Elsa for real. 

-

Anna and Kristoff write almost daily but they aren’t able to visit again until a few weeks have passed since the dam had fallen.

Arendelle had survived, against all odds, and the only thing that needed to be rebuilt was the castle. In her exhaustion, Elsa had completely forgotten to mention that. Her entire experience after unfreezing seemed more like a fever dream than anything else. Anna had written to her asking her advice on how to incorporate Northuldra architecture into the new design. Elsa hadn’t been an expert so she asked Honeymaren to pass the information around the village. They collect enough for a plan and send the notes back via Gale.

With the construction of the new and improved castle well underway Anna’s finally able to break away for a long weekend. She picks the fastest horses and is back in the forest in around a day.

She greets her mother and Honeymaren warmly before heading to where Elsa was resting. Elsa seems to sense her presence and wakes easily to greet her.

“You do realize that as soon as you’re better I’m going to throttle you, right?” She gives her sister a moment to gather her bearings before delivering her proclamation.

“I know for a fact that I’m stronger than you,” Elsa replies, she had spent the better part of her childhood in the woods, she wasn’t as muscular as someone who did warrior training like Maren, and spirits does she live Maren’s muscles, but she had seen many days of hard work. She wasn’t frail by any means.

“Psh, you’ve been bedridden for _weeks_ Elsa, I _know_ that I can throttle you,” Anna shoves her arm lightly and Elsa still has to fight the urge to wince, so maybe her sister is right this time. “What you did was really _really_ stupid Els,” Anna wags her finger at her and Elsa would laugh if her ribs didn’t still hurt.

“I know,” she acquiesces, “and I’m sorry, but I had to do this alone.”

“I know, I but you should know that you’re not alone. And if some other threat comes up in the future you should know that we all have your back and will do anything we can to help you, and know that you can trust us.” And this isn’t the final conversation they’ll have on this, but both know that there will be plenty of time to do everything they ever wanted to with each other. To say everything that they needed to say.

“Okay,” Elsa leans into her side, and Anna knows this feeling from memories that still don’t feel real. “Can I just ask you one thing?”

“What?”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	15. Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We reach the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I totally missed the deadline that I set for myself, sorry about that. In the interim, I built a cabinet instead so there's that.  
> We've reached the end of this fic, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing it. Please enjoy the final chapter!

It takes Elsa a long time to feel like herself again. Although she doesn’t entirely know who that is anymore. After sleeping for several weeks on end she still doesn’t feel like herself but she at least feels alive. Elsa had gone through too much in her life already. But she had gone through most of that alone and survived; now she had her entire family behind her waiting for her to get better. She wants to get better for them, for herself too.

The bruises and the broken ribs are surprisingly the easiest things to fix. When she’s conscious enough to feel every ache in her body acutely she realizes how bad of state she had been in. (She’s exceedingly grateful to whoever popped her arm back into place while she was unconscious, she had enough to worry about without thinking about that)

It’s harder to get her legs working again. She had been walking and running on water on legs that had taken more than their fair share of beatings. When she takes her first few steps outside of the healer’s goahti she supposes that she looks more like a newborn calf than anything else. Her steps are measured and short and extraordinarily slow to avoid injuring herself further with another fall. Honeymaren trails her, ready to catch her at a moment’s notice, but Elsa waves her away from physically assisting her. She had been extraordinarily lucky that all of her broken ribs hadn’t hit any of her vital organs. She was reminded daily that she would likely not be so lucky the second time.

She takes recovery a day at a time after cramming several decades of undoing past wrongs into a few days. It takes her too long to learn and then relearn that she didn’t have to do everything alone. Healing her wounds is a painfully slow lesson in this that she doesn’t want to forget anymore.

It’s harder still to get her mind back in order after everything. She understands the basic logistics of dying and coming back to life, but that doesn’t prepare her for dying and living through it.

She had heard accounts of villagers who fell through the ice and almost froze to death, the feeling is completely foreign to someone who had never felt the cold but she wanted to hear the story as much as any other teenager in the tribe. The description had been accurate to a fault. The cold seeping into their bones until they were so cold, they weren’t anymore, they just went numb. They would have died if not for the rest of their hunting party managing to pull them out in time.

Elsa herself had dove into the same freezing lake a few winters later on a dare. The water had been the same as any other, she had never felt the cold until it was too late. She spent twenty minutes treading water in the hole that Ryder had carved out. She goes underwater for a few minutes just to prove that she can. She won several knives, a shawl, and a few people shares of dessert at the next festival. She had just come out of the water wet, not cold, not dying, not even a little sick. She had walked all the way back to the village in her wet clothes to win two more blankets and a hat. She changes out of the wet clothes later to avoid actually getting sick and because Maren starts yelling at her.

(She had done it on a dare but also because she desperately wanted to know what it was like to be cold. Everyone felt it but her, it killed indiscriminately in the darkest and harshest winters and she felt none of it. At that moment she had wanted to know, more than anything, what it was like to freeze. She wanted to know what it was like to be human like everyone else was. She knows now and she envies no more)

Her own death had been mercifully quick. She had frozen to death in seconds and that was it. There was no pain and no time to regret anything.

So, why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

She wallows in her own misery for too long. She doesn’t know how to be better for herself or anyone else.

As a child, she had fallen asleep crying often after the accident. She had often woken up similarly. Her dreams, if you could call them that, just replayed the accident over and over again, and sometimes the result was worse. After she came to the forest, she tended towards screaming. Her father had haunted her dreams, often succeeding, often causing her enough pain that she wished he succeeded. (Knowing what she does now doesn’t make the memories of these memories any less damaging, just more tangible) She made a point to try and do it as quietly as possible as to not wake the other occupants of the goahti but doesn’t always succeed. With mastery over her powers and her fears the dreams gradually decrease in frequency and ferocity.

After dying, after the long period where she was alive but didn’t feel like it, she wakes often in a cold sweat. She doesn’t feel the cold, but she often notices how the other occupant shivers in their sleep if they don’t wake completely. Only in her dreams does the ice in her veins freeze over and the chill in her chest stops her heart.

She doesn’t want to burden others with her feelings even though she’s already burdened them with her death, twice if you counted her first ‘death’.

Her mother and Maren are the ones who stay with her after she’s out of the wood’s health-wise. She doesn’t want them there really but it’s not like they’ll leave. She’s not strong enough to make them either. She doesn’t want them there but she doesn’t want to be alone and she hates the feeling all of this. 

Bruni curls up on her chest and Gale flits through her hair the morning that she starts to feel alive again. She feels the ice that lives in her veins that belongs there. She flexes her powers and reforms the first reindeer statue that she made for Maren. She had offered over and over again to remake it. The first one had been crude and an experiment of using her powers on a small scale. It had been misshapen and more than a little ugly but Maren had insisted on keeping it as is. Elsa had never understood it but she had never made a move to alter the statue. She remakes the statue as it was, warts and all. She turns the statue over in her hands and doesn’t find it as horrible as she remembered. She doesn’t feel the chill that she should in her hands but she remembers the feeling well enough to imagine. It was childish and crude but not offensive. It had been an honest offering of friendship by a young girl who had never had to make a friend before.

Life went on and so would she. She couldn’t change the past and she didn’t want to; it made her who she was today, it brought her to Honeymaren, it brought her family back together. She loves her life and she wanted to get back to it.

And when those dreams overwhelm her, she finally lets herself be held. By the time that she and Maren had become involved romantically, she didn’t dream of her father every night anymore. Now she lets Maren’s strong arms wrap her up in unfamiliar furs and soothe her back to sleep. When her world was nothing more than four walls and a door, there was no one to help her. If the soldiers posted outside her door hear her crying, they never mentioned it to her parents.

She lets her mother sing her to sleep when sleep evades her. She accepts that this, in and of itself, isn’t weakness, and never has been. Those past failures didn’t define the rest of their relationship. That her mother’s love had been true and genuine even if it hadn’t always felt like it. That her fathers had been, once upon a time, and that when it turned suffocating then murderous, it had never been her fault.

She dreams of a future where the forest and Arendelle will live in peace with each other and nature. She had her family back, so, she had more to lose. She didn’t think about it at the time, because she had no time to even consider it, she thought only of saving her people. But she knew that now. And she knew that her family would have her back in making this dream come true.

She was the fifth spirit, guardian of the enchanted forest and protector of the bond between humans and nature; she was Elsa of Arendelle, daughter of Iduna and Agnarr, sister to Anna, future wife to Honeymaren. She was her own person and this was something she had to carry with her, and when the burden got too much to bear, she wouldn’t be alone.

-

Anna has a lot of work to do when she gets back to Arendelle. She spends most of the ride back to Arendelle running logistics. Granted the journey back to Arendelle is much quicker with the addition of a few extra reindeer. Sven is elated and Anna is anxious to start rebuilding.

She expects to see the kingdom flattened but the only thing missing from the skyline is the castle. Kristoff and Sven match her surprise and their jaws simultaneously fall to the ground. The cliffside refuge camps had been neatly packed up when they passed through the area earlier. Almost as if nothing had changed, but everything had.

“Princess Anna! It’s so good to see you,” Mattias greets them at the gates of Arendelle, having heard word of them heading back to Arendelle. The scene behind the gate showed a bustling Arendelle, most everyone having apparently returned to normal. Kristoff and Sven manage to pick their jaws off the ground to follow her to greet him. 

“Lieutenant Mattias! What happened?” She doesn’t even try to slow the words down as they rush out of her mouth, she _needed_ to know. Anna takes in their surroundings in the moments it takes Mattias to decipher and answer her question and finds that Arendelle is truly unscathed. The street that they had rushed out of during a cavalcade of natural disasters still stood, not a brick out of place.

“From what I’ve gathered, the wave from the dam was heading straight towards Arendelle, and something stopped it,” he shakes his head in disbelief as if being trapped in a magical forest hadn’t dulled his sensitivity to magic at all.

“Or someone,” Anna mutters more to herself than anyone else, “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, my unit connected with the rest of the Arendelle troops and helped everyone move back into the city, everyone was accounted for and in perfect health,” Mattias faces relaxes as he says repeats the statistics, “A few horses had quite a scare and ran off but we’re currently working on recovering them.”

“Thank goodness,” Anna sighs in relief, “So, the castle is just gone? I mean I saw it from the cliffs but it’s really gone?”

“Yes, miraculously, the wave only took out the castle,” Mattias starts to lead them to where the castle used to stand. Anna had spent two years looking out at the kingdom, slowly memorizing every building and every street. Everything that mattered had survived.

“Miraculously,” Anna agrees, though it’s not the word she’d use. She makes a mental note to ask Elsa about this later. 

Some of the castle staff had managed to save some of the heavier artifacts from the castle that hadn’t been swept away completely. But other than those few items everything is gone. Which Anna should be more upset by because it was her entire childhood gone in mere seconds. But, to her surprise and everyone else’s, she’s not. The alternative was the destruction of most if not all of Arendelle. The alternative was letting the sins of the past remain hidden in Arendelle’s walls forever. The alternative was her sister dying for a second time forever. If anything, she’s grateful. It was a chance to start fresh and build something better.

Elsa had written back with some preliminary sketches of traditional Northuldra designs. The architects set to work immediately on some designs incorporating the old and new. No hidden rooms or sisters this time. Open gates that would remain open even in the hardest of times.

Anna loves the new designs instantly and approves it without a second thought. This was another chance for them to right the wrongs that their father and grandfather had done. It was more symbolic than anything but it still mattered. Arendelle had most of the resources that they needed and she contacts their allies to help with the rest.

She and Elsa write to each other constantly in the interim, it was the first time that they had any real channels of communications between them. Anna had slipped countless notes under the door to Elsa’s room. Elsa had read every one and never replied. Anna kept sending them because she had hoped, beyond reason, for a response. She never received one, but now she received responses daily. As a child she remembers Elsa’s handwriting being something aspirational, her tutors had often cited it as a good example of the royal script—now, as she had to decipher Elsa’s chicken scratch, she can’t help but laugh. It’s not lost on her that Elsa must have barely used the language in the past fifteen years or so, so Anna lets it slide until they’re face to face. She had the opportunity to make fun of her sister face to face and she wasn’t going to waste it. Her own script had improved to the point where her tutors stopped comparing them.

She writes to Elsa to ask about the wave. She sends the swan via Gale early in the morning soon after returning to Arendelle. She receives a quick and hasty response that Elsa didn’t even bother folding, instead, it arrives in a crumpled-up ball. Anna unfurls it carefully to read:

_I completely forgot about that, sorry I forgot to tell you, yes, that was me. Love, Elsa_

The ink is smeared with how quickly Elsa had written and sent it, but Anna, now used to Elsa’s messy script doesn’t have to look too hard to read it. Anna nearly bursts out laughing in the middle of a reconstruction meeting when she gets the note. She doesn’t have a response for it so she just sends a drawing of a reindeer laughing. Most of her time is meeting with architects and labor coordinators. The castle didn’t need to be completed _immediately_ but it would be best to have at least some of it done before winter truly set in. So, time is of the essence. They had debated for a while about whether or not to rebuild the castle on the fjord or move it to the cliffs. Eventually, they agree that a second wave was very unlikely and the fjord made more sense.

When she’s finally able to head back to the enchanted forest almost a month had passed since she last saw her mother and sister. It wasn’t the longest stretch of time but it was longer than she’d like. She relishes in the fact that they wouldn’t have to be apart for any longer than necessary anymore.

The journey back is much quicker with a full team of horses and without the weight of a collapsing kingdom on her shoulders. She leaves Kristoff with specific instructions as how to deal with the ongoing construction. He _was_ going to be the prince or king or whatever, he needed to know how to take care of the kingdom in her absence, no matter how brief.

She sees the forest as it should have been. In the month that had passed most of the leaves had fallen and the winter chill had begun to set in. Her memories of Elsa and her powers are more real with every day that passes.

She’s only able to stay in the forest for a few days before she has to head back to Arendelle, so she tries to make the best of them. Elsa is still too early in her recovery to stay awake the entire time she wants her to, but they do get to finally talk.

She spends a lot of the time that Elsa needs to rest updating her mother on what’s going on in Arendelle, she had sent letters but not everything warranted going on the page.

“Oh, did I tell you? Mattias finally grew a backbone and asked Halima out to tea!”

“Really?” Honeymaren answers, because her mother had never been that interested in idle gossip, nor had she ever known Mattias in a non-emergency situation. Honeymaren had a more vested interest in both and Anna likes her future sister-in-law even more. “I didn’t think the old man had it in him,” Honeymaren seemed rather ambivalent about most of the soldiers that had been trapped in the forest with them, but this was _interesting_.

“Did he ever talk to you about her?” 

“No, but he asked Elsa about her at least once and she told me,” Honeymaren shrugs, “So, same thing.”

“Remind me to never tell one of you something in confidence,” Anna deadpans.

“Anna, is there anything paramount to the kingdom in this story?” Her mother asks bemused by the current conversation but not enough to let it go on forever.

“Yes actually, I was getting to that, is Elsa this impatient?” She aims a jab at her mother, it was only fair, they had been having a perfectly fun conversation.

“Only when she’s bored or annoyed,” Honeymaren laughs at the similarities between mother and daughters.

“Anna!” Her mother says with significantly less bemusement.

“I’m planning on promoting Mattias to general, he’s more than proved his loyalty in the forest and at the dam, and the position had been unfilled since General Jenson retired, I have the council’s approval, we just need the approval of the reigning Queen.”

“You have my approval Anna, it’s a good idea and I’m glad that you thought of it,” Iduna replies easily, “though you no longer need my permission, you’re already taking charge during a crisis, the only approval you need is your own.”

“Okay,” Anna takes it all in, it was a big step that she didn’t take lightly, “I still don’t have the crown though, so I need this in writing,” she doesn’t give up on the chance to be cheeky though, she wasn’t Queen quite yet. She was ready whenever this

Elsa is strong enough to recreate Olaf when she visits. She had never been entirely forthcoming when she wrote and Anna had worried, she was worried until she got to see her sister in the flesh again. Elsa is worse for wear but stronger every day and Anna lets out the last of the tension left in her shoulders.

Olaf accompanies her back to Arendelle, citing a vague desire to see the world, and she and Kristoff have to start the arduous process of introducing everyone in Arendelle to Elsa’s magic. Most everyone that they get to talk to is a mixture of confused or incredulous. The only people not surprised are Kai and Gerda, they had been with their family for years, of course they would have some suspicions. However, Olaf ends up doing most of his own introductions. A few people faint but the children quickly rally around him and everything goes as smoothly as possible as far as a sentient snowman goes. Which, this is Anna’s second time around with this so, moderately well.

“This is so exciting, I’ve never been to Arendelle, I’ve never been anywhere really,” Olaf excitedly rubs his sticks together in a gesture that he had seen someone in the village do.

“I’m sure you’ll love it Olaf,” and Anna has never really had the opportunity to be the older sibling in a relationship, but she guesses that it’s something similar to this. Olaf waddles down the street faster than should be possible, Anna tries valiantly to catch him the first few blocks but gives up rather quickly. Olaf introduces himself to everyone he sees on the street and Anna follows him to explain the situation more to the citizens. She finds his energy infectious and finds that she doesn’t mind. Olaf was as much part of Elsa as he was of her.

Sven takes to Olaf the quickest out of their family. The reindeer ends up taking the snowman around the rest of Arendelle to show him around the city.

With the castle under construction Anna and Kristoff end up staying with a local innkeeper. Thankfully not the same one he had found her at all those years ago. There’s room in the stables for Sven and Olaf makes the decision to join his new friend there. The inn is unusually full with the thwarted coronation plans and subsequent evacuation so she and Kristoff, not wanting to displace anyone, take a small room close to the stables. The ceiling is low and Kristoff bumps his head a few times but neither of them minds too much. They had made it through a failed engagement, several natural disasters, and several magical events—this was just a mild inconvenience.

Kristoff pulls her aside one night after dinner for a nighttime stroll. It’s a strange but not unwelcome gesture. The oil lamps have been lit and the sky is full of stars. Anna hadn’t realized how much she had missed the sky the week she had been without it, she leans into Kristoff’s side in pure contentment.

“There’s something that I want to ask you, that I’ve wanted to ask you for a while,” Kristoff stops them just outside the deserted plaza, the lamp behind him forming a halo as she gazes up at him.

“What is it?” She asks, though she feels like she’s known the question for a long time.

“I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Anna, will you marry me?” He kneels and pulls a ring out from his breast pocket. The jewel shimmers in the light and Anna’s breathe catches in her throat.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she says mutely, her brain catching up with her eyes, “I love you too,” she says through her hands that have found their way in front of her mouth. Tears prick at her eyes and they’re happy for what feels like the first time in forever.

“Is that a yes?” He asks tentatively from his prone position. A smile creeping onto his face. He knew her too well to be as terrified as he was at this moment. 

“What kind of question is that?” She pulls him up roughly by his hands before shoving him lightly in the chest, pushing him just far enough away to pull him back by his collar. “Of course, it’s a yes!” She crashes their lips together to seal the deal.

-

Relearning an old language is easier and harder than she expected. Iduna spends most of the weeks where Elsa does nothing but sleep, she spends most of her time not fretting over her daughter reacquainting herself with the language. She _knows_ she does, the words and the way they should feel on her tongue. But she doesn’t know how to replicate that feeling nor how to turn it into an actual language. But she has time.

Elsa’s recovery is painfully slow for everyone involved. Elsa tries her hardest to be patient but it takes what feels like ages for her to make any semblance of progress. She watches her daughter wake up in a cold sweat that envelops the whole goahti along with it.

“Is this normal?” She asks after several nights in a row of freezing along with her daughter’s night terrors. It’s a stupid question, she knows this, but she already doesn’t know much anything about Elsa, to begin with, she didn’t want to make assumptions.

“When she first came through the mist, she used to wake up screaming for nights on end,” Yelena deadpans, “So no, this isn’t normal nor is it the first time something like this has happened,” Yelena is less indulgent with her use of the Arendellian language these days. Iduna misses a few words but hopes that she got the whole message.

“How do we help her?”

“We can’t do anything but be there for her, Elsa has to work through this alone,” Iduna flinches just at the bluntness, she had no one when she came to Arendelle and she’s still not sure what would have helped her back then. It took her years in Arendelle to form a proper support network and even then, she had told no one of her past. She can’t imagine going through something traumatic alone by choice. “I told you before that it wasn’t anything in the forest that helped Elsa gain control over her powers, this is the same, she has to make the decision to get better,” a soft looks crosses the old chief’s face, “I know this hurts, but everything heals, and this isn’t the end, no matter how many times it has felt like it.” It was the beginning; it was her second or third chance of rebuilding her relationship between her and her eldest daughter. She wasn’t going to waste it.

“You said that it was a possibility that Elsa was the fifth spirit before all of this, what does it mean now?”

“It means what it did back then. Elsa is meant to help bridge the gap between humans and nature, and with the help of your other daughter, bridge the gap between Arendelle and the forest. And however, she does this is her choice.”

Iduna doesn’t know how to respond to this so she just nods. Her child was an adult with her own life and she just needed to be there to support her in whatever way her daughter would let her.

When Elsa’s finally starting to feel better Iduna waits to bring up everything that she wants to say. It’s not that she thinks is Elsa fragile, if she were fragile there’s no way that she would have survived all of this. She’s afraid of ruining her relationship with her daughter. She had a second second chance and she didn’t want her own insecurities ruining it.

Elsa’s ribs heal, all the bruises fade from purple to green to nothing at all. She starts to walk unassisted and the tightness in her chest finally loosens.

She takes courage and finally broaches the subject. “We never finished our conversation earlier, if you have anything else you want to say to me, please say it, I can take it.”

“I don’t blame you, if that’s what you want to know” Elsa says bluntly, “And I don’t want you to think that, but I haven’t forgiven you, not yet,” the implicit message is that her forgiveness was inevitable. She doesn’t totally think that she deserves it, but she wants to earn it.

“Do you blame your father?”

“I blame father, I blame grandfather, it’s all of them,” Elsa shakes her head and smiles of all things.

“Do you hate them?”

“No, not anymore,” Elsa couldn’t hate them anymore, she knew too much about them too hate them completely, she resented them, she was disappointed in them, she was mad at them, but she couldn’t hate them. “I could have died out there, I was ready to die out there, but I didn’t,” Elsa just says it to say it, it’s not malicious or at least not intentionally, “You were the one who saved father all those years ago, weren’t you?” It isn’t an accusation; Elsa just asks because she wants to know. She didn’t know anything beyond the surface level fact that she was Northuldra.

“Yes, that was me,” Iduna admits, “How did you know?” Anna had guessed eventually after some prodding, had she told her sister?

“I saw it when I was in Ahtohallen, Gale helped you save him,” Elsa says simply as if magically seeing memories of before you were born was a normal occurrence.

“What else did you see?” She asks because she wanted to know.

“I saw Maren’s and Ryder’s parents leave to try and find a way out of the mist, I saw you and father meet for the first time, I even saw Anna meet Hans,” both of them laugh then at the incredulity of the last memory, “Remind me to make her tell me the whole story next time, Kristoff told me some of it earlier but I’d like to hear the whole thing.”

Iduna nods and sensing Elsa’s waning energy helps tuck her daughter into bed. They slowly start to unravel all of their history over the following weeks that Iduna is in the forest. She lacks the desire to stay in the forest forever but she’s hesitant to leave until everything is settled.

“Did you grow up hearing stories of the fifth spirit?” Elsa asks one day; she had grown up with stories of the fifth spirit only because Maren had. Most of the villagers until recently had thought it nothing more than an old legend.

“I heard the stories when I was a child but my family wasn’t especially superstitious so I never really gave them much creed. Yelena actually reminded me of the stories when we talked, I had almost forgotten them entirely,” she had, assimilation had often come at the cost of her culture. Arendellian language and culture had been almost completely foreign to her when she arrived but now, she knew almost nothing else.

“Were my powers supposed to be a reward? Or a thanks?” Elsa ponders aloud, they had been a curse before, and a gift now. The original intention doesn’t matter so much now but she’s still curious and more than a little bored after almost two months of not being able to do much of anything. Winter had slowly set in, from Anna’s letters and latent visits, she learns that the reconstruction of the castle is well underway, not livable just yet but soon enough.

“I think that it was meant to be a reward, and hope for the future, that Arendelle could eventually be at peace with the forest,” she believes in this now because it was what she wanted for the future, her two homes, her two daughters united at last. “The spirits rewarded my child with a destiny that would kill them,” she grasps belatedly, incorrectly.

“I chose that path mother, the spirits didn’t choose that for me, I was reckless and went too far,” Elsa catches her hiccup and chastises her. “What else did you want to say?” Elsa catches the way that words rest on the tip of her tongue.

“I missed the forest but it’s not my home anymore, it’s not your fault, Arendelle is my home now, and I belong there,” Iduna doesn’t know how to say this, because she had already abandoned her child once, would this count as a second time?

“I know, I’m not a child anymore, Arendelle is your home and the forest is mine, we can still visit each other, whenever we want,” Elsa reassures her, and she shouldn’t have to, she was the parent in this relationship, even if she didn’t feel like it. “When will you leave?”

“Another week maybe? Anna doesn’t need me there, but I want to help with rebuilding and I’m ready to go home.”

“I understand,” and Elsa does, even with the mist gone she had little desire to leave the boarders, her home was here and this was where she belonged.

“You’re not mad?” She asks tentatively, still so afraid of her own daughter.

“I have no reason to be,” Elsa smiles and it’s so unlike the one she had as a child, really, it takes her a moment to realize that it resembled her father’s—it’s then that she finally accepts that, though her daughter has grown up without her, it wasn’t the end of their influence on her. Their relationship wasn’t ruined nor was it fragile enough to break.

-

Honeymaren and Elsa see Iduna off after Elsa has been feeling better for weeks. Elsa clears the mountain pass so a cart can get through and Elsa’s mother leaves the forest of her own choice this time. Honeymaren had grown to care for the woman over the past few months. It was strange to have a new mother-figure in her life now but that was probably the least strange thing to happen in the last month.

“So, fifth spirt huh?” She asks Elsa when they’re curled up together in their goahti, alone at last. It was weird enough for the myths to be true, it was downright absurd that she was engaged to her. 

“I guess,” Elsa has the decency to not blush, scratching her chin in thought.

“So, what do we do now? Do you have fifth spirit-y duties to accomplish?” She teases, poking Elsa in her newly healed ribs. Elsa’s ticklish and can’t help but giggle at the gesture.

“If I do, no one has bothered to tell me,” Elsa manages out through her giggles, “Although Bruni’s been very annoying lately, maybe he started a fire somewhere.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Maren says curtly. Bruni had started enough fires over the years, this year had been too hectic already, if the fire spirit wanted to start a fire he could wait until next year. Bruni crawls up Elsa’s arm, apparently sensing that they were talking about him. He sticks his tongue out at her and Maren hopes that it isn’t a challenge. The salamander hops off and curls into a ball on the

“I don’t know what happens next,” Elsa says simply, “I have a duty to the forest now so you can’t try and get rid of me anymore,” Elsa winks in a way that Maren assumes is supposed to be seductive. It isn’t but she finds it charming anyway.

“I have never tried to get rid of you, if anything you’ve had a death wish since you were a kid,” Maren accuses lightly, pulling Elsa into her arms and burying her face in her hair.

“I have not!”

“Let’s see,” she counts off on her fingers, “you jumped into a frozen lake on a bet, you let Ryder push you into the river that you nearly drowned in,” she pauses for a moment to think, “Now that I’m saying all of it out loud, maybe I should keep you away from the water,” she snarks as good-naturedly as she can, Elsa throws her head back to try and hit her, Elsa misses and Maren can feel it her promised pouting, “you wandered around in a blizzard for over a week and the only reason you stopped is because you broke your ankle," she puts her pinky up and takes a breath for dramatic effect, "most recently, you actually froze to death in a deep dark pit because you didn’t listen to the voices in your head.”

“Fine! I did all of that but I don’t have a death wish,” Elsa protests, leaning back into her arms to look up at her. “I want to be here with you, never forget that, even if I’m acting like an idiot.”

“Sounds good, and thank you for admitting that you can act like an idiot,” she gives Elsa a quick peck on the lips.

They stew in a comfortable silence for a long moment. Honeymaren peppers her shoulder with kisses and then wraps them up in their furs. Neither is ready to sleep, not anxious but still full of energy.

“Any ideas about our future?” She mumbles into Elsa’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t Yelena want to retire soon?” Elsa asks pointedly, “You might be named a candidate to succeed her.”

“Yelena won’t retire unless she’s on the verge of dropping dead, you should know this,” Elsa scoffs and has to fight back the urge to start laughing hysterically. “Besides, even if I become a candidate that doesn’t mean I’ll be chosen, and anyway that shouldn’t affect our plans.”

“What plans are you talking about? Did you come up with some while I was spacing out?” Elsa jokes. They had promised to involve each other in big decisions.

“We have been engaged for years we could finally get married,” Honeymaren suggests, not entirely serious but not entirely joking. They could get married they could not get married. She and Elsa hadn’t cared that much before, maybe things had changed. “Do you want to get married now?”

“We could, I have an entire family now, it would make sense,” Elsa shrugs, relatively ambivalent. “I’m in no rush, but I’d like to do it eventually,” she pauses in thought for long moment, “At the rate we’re going at Anna and Kristoff might get married before we do,” she laughs at the thought on her own for a moment before Maren shares her mirth.

“Did he talk to you?”

“He asked for my permission to ask Anna to marry him,” Kristoff had been an anxious mess the whole conversation and Elsa had felt more than a little bad for him.

“Is that common in Arendelle?” She says with apprehension, not entirely taking it seriously. In the tribe, one person would often ask the other’s parents before becoming promised but asking a _sister_? Let alone a sister who had been dead for over a decade.

“Not really, at least not that I’m aware of.”

“Strange,” Maren pulls her in tighter.

“Are you still sure that you want to marry into this family?”

“As is that would scare me off, you already died on me once, I’m not going to let your get away from me anymore.”

“Sounds good to me,” Elsa mumbles out, sleep taking her faster than she’d like.

Honeymaren presses a kiss to her temple. “Sounds good to me too.”

-

Elsa avoids following her family back to Arendelle for a long time. She doesn’t have to even offer an excuse for months because it wasn’t safe for her to travel without risk of a relapse. After that winter truly sets and in mountain passes aren’t safe for most travelers. Which, she’s not just any traveler but the excuse works. When she’s a little healthier she just isn’t ready to go back.

She wasn’t afraid of Arendelle necessarily. She had seen it for the briefest of moments as she let a wave crush the castle. As her memories from that ride come back to her in pieces, she can remember how relieved she was when the castle shattered into fragments that could never be put back together.

She had pushed all of her memories of this place in the far reaches of her mind for far too long. The sudden reappearance of her family had forced her to face everything once again.

She’s afraid of being the same person she was back when she lived in Arendelle. She had been a child when everything happened. She was older and wiser and ready to face whatever was in Arendelle.

Anna sends a paper airplane with the coronation details and Elsa decides to bite the bullet.

The ride to Arendelle is long. Elsa’s memories of the first journey are so muddled by a brain and body on the verge of starvation that it is entirely new. Some part of her is shocked that she walked most of the way. Far off the path she can see what might have been the clearing where her father tried to kill her. But it could also just be a clearing, she doesn’t let her mind linger on the dichotomy; it didn’t matter anymore. Instead, she watches Maren marvel at all of the new sights and sounds.

They stop right on the outskirts of Arendelle. A place that Elsa had never been before. She makes Maren stop the wagon before the they cross the line. Anna had agreed to meet them there. Elsa had wanted both of them to experience seeing Arendelle together. She wanted to walk through the streets she had never been allowed to walk as a girl hand in hand with the woman she loved.

“I’m so glad you came!” Anna meets them just outside of town. Elsa lets Honeymaren help her down from the carriage. She had been strong enough for weeks, now she was ready.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” And she means it more than anything. “It’s a big day.”

“Well, I’ve basically been acting as the queen for months, now we just have the ceremony to prove it,” Anna waves her hand noncommittally, her nervous energy isn’t afraid or anxious at this, it’s excited.

“So, you’re ready for today?” Honeymaren interjects, playfully prodding her future sister-in-law.

“I’ve been ready for months,” Anna says happily, puffing out her chest in total confidence. Elsa and Maren share in some giggling, to Anna’s annoyance.

“So, why did I get a letter from Gale practically begging for my advice about the castle?”

“It was a courtesy,” Anna sticks her tongue out and Elsa can’t help but giggle, her ribs don’t ache in protest, “I wanted your input, not your ridicule,” Anna pouts. Elsa flashes back to their childhood and it doesn’t hurt. Anna’s pouting face hadn’t changed after all these years. Elsa feels the smirk on her face morph into a real smile.

“Well you got both,” Elsa smiles good-naturedly, patting her sister on the shoulder. It’s then that Elsa catches a glimpse of a glint on her sister’s hand, “Kristoff proposed?” She reaches out and Anna offers the ring for closer inspection. The amber-colored stone suits Anna perfectly, and, not for the first time, Elsa thinks that these two have chosen each other well.

“Did I not tell you?” Anna shows off the ring and she and Honeymaren admire it appreciatively.

“Is this what they do in Arendelle?” Honeymaren asks her in Northuldra, keeping the conversation relatively private. She wasn’t ashamed of her ignorance but she wanted to know Elsa’s culture in her own time and on her own terms.

“Men usually give their promised rings to cement the union, I didn’t think it applied to us,” Elsa hadn’t ever seen a relationship like her own as a child; there was no point of reference for what would become her life. She finds now that it didn’t matter, she had found her way and she didn’t like having things on her hands anyway.

“Do you want a ring?” Honeymaren asks out of courtesy, if Elsa wanted it, she would do it.

“No, I like my mark,” Elsa gives her a peck on the cheek to alleviate any worries that Maren may have.

“I’m right here you know?” Anna interjects loudly, “As soon as I learn Northuldra you two can’t have conversations in front of me,” she crosses her arms to drive her indignance home. 

“So, we still have time?” Elsa says with a prominent smirk.

“Not the point,” Anna quips, “Are you two lovebirds ready to go?”

“As we’ll ever be,” Maren replies easily after seeing Elsa’s subtle nod.

They reach the gates and Elsa freezes before stepping over the line she had drawn all those years ago. The line that separated what was in Arendelle from what was outside of it. She had drawn it in her mind only once and never crossed it again. She had stared outside her window for days on end and drawn a line between the castle and the rest of Arendelle, between her room and the rest of the world. Those lines didn’t exist anymore because the castle didn’t exist anymore, and because she was free and had been for years.

She’s not sure why she can’t cross that line but her body doesn’t cooperate either way.

Honeymaren and Anna take a few steps past it before they realize that she’s not with them.

“Elsa,” Maren reaches her hand out over the line and Elsa takes it easily, relishing in the familiar feeling of her fiancée’s hand in her own.

“We do this together,” Anna says seriously, sensing her apprehension, offers her hand.

She takes her sister’s offered hand in her free hand and grips Honeymaren’s tighter in her other. Elsa takes her first steps in Arendelle’s borders in over a decade and isn’t afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope to write more for this ship in the future!


End file.
